Молли Фитц

Raccoon Racketeer. Himalayan Hazard. Meowy Christmas Mayhem. Hoppy Holiday Homicide. Retriever Ransom. Lawless Litter. Legal Seagull. Black Cat Benefit

7. RACCOON RACKETEER

Chapter One

Hey, my name’s Angie Russo, and I own one-half of a private investigation firm here in beautiful Blueberry Bay, Maine.

The other half belongs to my cat, Octavius—or Octo-Cat for short. It may not seem like his nickname keeps things short, but trust me on that one. Every time he tells anyone his full name, he always adds at least one new title to the end. The most recent version is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq. P.I.

Like I said, it’s a mouthful.

And he’s kind of a handful, too.

While my spoiled tabby is undoubtedly my best friend, he does have a way of making my life harder. For instance, he’s been catnapped, ordered to court for arbitration, and even repeatedly threatened to kill our new dog.

Did I mention that all happened in the span of just one month?

But that’s Octo-Cat for you.

Love him or hate him, there’s no denying he’s a true individual.

And even though he’s just about as stubborn as they come, he does occasionally change his mind about things.

That new dog we adopted? She’s a sweet rescue Chihuahua named Paisley. She liked him from the start, but it took Octo-Cat much longer to warm up to her. Now I am proud to report that the two have become close friends. In fact, one of my cat’s favorite hobbies has become stalking and pouncing on his dog and then wrestling her to the ground.

Yes, his dog. That’s how much the tables have turned these past few weeks.

Together, the three of us live with my grandmother, Nan. Although she’s the main one who raised me, she lives in my house.

And I live in my cat’s house.

Yup, Octo-Cat is a trust fund kitty, and his stipend is more than generous enough to pay the mortgage on our exquisite New England manor house.

It’s a bit ridiculous, I’ll be the first to admit that. But, hey, when life gives you lemonade, it’s best if you drink up and enjoy!

Speaking of, I’ve been dating my dream guy for about seven weeks now. His name is Charles Longfellow, III, and he’s my dream guy for good reason. Not only is he the sole partner at the law firm where I used to work, but he’s also incredibly smart, kind, attentive, handsome—and, okay, I may as well just admit it—sexy.

Not that we’ve…

Anyway!

I can talk to my cat. I probably should have mentioned that earlier, seeing as it’s the most unusual thing about me.

I can talk to my dog, too, and most animals now.

Long story short, I got electrocuted at a will reading, and when I regained consciousness, I heard Octo-Cat making fun of me. Once he realized I could understand him, he recruited me to solve his late owner’s murder, and the rest is history.

From there, we realized two things. One, we make a really good crime-solving team, and two, we were stuck with each other for better or worse. Usually, things are better, but he still has his hissy fits on occasion—and so do I, for that matter.

And I guess that brings me to today.

Today marks the two-month mark since we first opened our P.I. outfit for business, and in that time, we’ve had exactly zero clients. Even my normally optimistic nan can’t spin this one in a positive light.

No one wants to hire us, and I’m not sure why.

I’m well-liked in town, and it’s not like people know I can actually talk to animals. They think including my cat as a partner is just a gimmick, and I prefer it that way, honestly.

But I’m starting to worry that we’ll never bring any business in.

At what point do we give up on our entrepreneurial enterprise?

Octo-Cat is pretty happy sleeping in the sun most of the day, but I prefer to have more in my life. I even quit my former job as a paralegal to make sure I had enough time for all the investigative work I felt certain would fall into my lap the moment we opened for business.

Yeah, I was more than a little wrong about that one.

I need to figure out something, and fast, if I want to keep my operation afloat, but how can I trust my instincts when they were so wrong before?

Here’s hoping Octo-Cat has a bright idea he’d be willing to share…

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It was Wednesday morning, and I’d spent the better part of the last two days handing out flyers to any person, business, or animal who would take one. Out of desperation, I’d even visited parking lots and shoved the brightly colored papers touting my credentials under the windshield wipers of each car in the lot.

Still, not one person had called to share a case with me.

Not one.

Nan had left the house early to serve a volunteer shift picking up litter around town. We’d both agreed the animal shelter, while in need, wasn’t the best place for her to share her generous heart—because we both knew she’d end up adopting almost every dog and cat in that place.

Our house was already full enough, thank you very much.

I sat in the front room of the house, sipping a can of Diet Coke. The coffee maker still scared me silly, given that the last time I’d used one I’d been electrocuted, and tea just wasn’t the same without Nan to keep me company.

Paisley and Octo-Cat scampered around the house in their perpetual game of tag, and I wracked my brain for any kind of idea that would help get us some clients.

The electronic pet door buzzed, and both animals ran outside.

I smiled and watched them zigzag through the yard. Mid-autumn had hit Maine, and now most of the fire-colored leaves had fallen from the trees. While I tried my best to keep up with the raking, it wasn’t easy given the fact that an enormous forest flanked my property on two sides.

Leaves blew into our yard all the time.

Like right now.

I sighed as a gust so strong I could practically see it swept through the trees and deposited at least five landscaping bags full of leaves on the front lawn. Leaves of every color carpeted the greenish-yellow grass—red, orange, yellow… turquoise?

“Mommy! Mommy!” Paisley cried from outside, and I went running. The sweet and innocent Chihuahua got upset fairly easily, but her small size also made her incredibly vulnerable. I never took any chances when it came to her safety, and neither did Nan or Octo-Cat.

One of us was always with her whenever she ventured outside.

And even though I knew Octo-Cat was out there now, I still needed to make sure nothing had happened to frighten her.

Both Paisley and Octo-Cat were waiting for me on the porch when I stepped outside. Paisley even had a turquoise piece of paper clamped within her jaws.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it from her.

“It’s one of your papers, Mommy!” the little dog cried proudly.

I glanced at the bright paper in my hands and then back out to the yard where dozens, maybe even hundreds, more had mixed with the autumnal leaves.

She was right. This was my paper. In fact, it was the flyer for our P.I. firm that I had so painstakingly distributed the last couple of days. I’d handed out every single one that Nan had printed for us—I’d made sure of it.

So why had they all followed me home?

And how?

A squeaky laugh underneath the porch gave me a pretty good idea.

“Pringle!” I yelled, stomping my feet as hard as I could to try to force the raccoon out of there.

I knew he was mad at me ever since I’d banned him from entering the house, but to sabotage my business? Really?

Chapter Two

“Pringle! Show yourself!” I cried, stomping so hard the impact raced up my foot and all the way through my calf. I tried to be fair to the animals that had made themselves part of my world, to accept them for their unique selves. Most of the time that was easy…

But this particular raccoon was driving me straight in the direction of the nearest asylum.

His laughter continued from under the porch, but Pringle made no move to answer my call. I had half a mind to widen the hole he used as a doorway and climb under there myself when Octo-Cat graciously intervened.

“Angela, that’s not how this is done.” He paced the edge of the porch with tail and nose held high. Whatever he was about to suggest, he was obviously very proud of it.

I stopped stomping and placed a hand on my hip, widening my eyes as I waited for Octo-Cat to enlighten me.

“Paisley, stay,” he said to the Chihuahua, then trotted down the stairs and approached the edge of the raccoon’s nearly hidden burrow. “Sir Pringle, would you kindly give us the distinct honor of your presence?”

I heard the raccoon before I saw him.“At your service, dear Octavius.”

When I peeked over the railing, I saw him making a deep bow toward my cat. For whatever reason, he idolized the tabby. At least that was his excuse for stealing so many of Octo-Cat’s things. I still didn’t know where his occasional fairytale knight mannerisms came from, but he clearly enjoyed this particular brand of make-believe.

Normally, I’d play along, but I was too angry to play by the raccoon’s ever-changing rules today.

“What’s this?” I demanded, waving the brightly colored flyer in the air.

Pringle bared his teeth in irritation.“I’m not at your beck and call, you know.”

I bared my teeth right back, just barely holding in an irritated scream. I’d never hurt a hair on his thieving head but hoped I could at least scare him into good behavior with the threat of it.

“Pray, answer the fair maiden’s question,” Octo-Cat intervened yet again. Oh, jeez. I’d have to block whatever medieval fantasy channel he was watching on TV when I wasn’t around to supervise. Even though I realized he was trying to help, this whole thing was turning into one giant migraine.

The raccoon ran up the porch steps, climbed the railing, and plucked the paper from my hands.“That’s mine,” he said then tucked it under his armpit before running back to the yard and out of my reach.

I placed both my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at him.“Actually, it’s mine.”

“Finders, keepers.” The smile that crept across his face now was far worse than his earlier show of aggression.

“What? No!” I cried. Just as I’d never hurt him, I knew Pringle would never cause me physical harm. At the moment, I was feeling rather emotionally attacked, however.

“Mommy, do you want me to chase the big bad raccoon away?” Paisley wagged her tail in excitement, refusing to take her eyes off the masked thief for even a second.

“Oh, no, sweetie, you don’t have to…” My words trailed away as I watched Pringle dive into the newly distributed leaves and gather up the remaining flyers.

“Actually,” I said, changing my mind in an instant. “Go for it.”

The little tricolor dog took off like a shot, barking at the top of her lungs.“Hey, you! Nobody messes with my mommy!”

Pringle lowered himself to all fours and shook his head.“Call off your hound. Let’s discuss this like the civilized creatures I know at least one of us is.”

Paisley ran a wide arc around the yard and then returned to my side.“He’s still there,” she pouted, then instantly brightened again. “Should I try again, Mommy?”

I smiled and bent down to pet her silky fur.“You did great. Thank you.” Rising again, I marched straight over to Pringle. “Okay, let’s hear it. Why did you take all my flyers?”

“They’re pretty,” he explained, hugging the disheveled stack to his chest. “I like pretty things.”

“But they weren’t here. I put them up all over town. How did you even…?”

He shrugged.“So I hitched a ride. Sometimes I like to go on adventures, too, you know? It would be nice if I didn’t have to invite myself, but since you’re not doing the job.” He shrugged again. If I wasn’t mistaken, the beginnings of tears had formed in the corners of his giant black eyes. Strange how sometimes my animal friends seemed more human than any of the people I knew.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I squatted down to face him head on. “I didn’t know you wanted to come, too.”

“Of course I wanted to come!” he shouted. “I like adventures just as much as the next forest animal, you know.”

I chose not to mention that distributing flyers begging for work was hardly an adventure.“Tell you what, next time we’ll invite you along, too. Deal?” Or at least the next time after I’d had a chance to cool down. As it was, he’d wasted a day and a half of hard work when I’d have given him colored paper had he just asked for it.

Pringle shook his head and eyed me warily.“Not quite.”

I waited, refusing to add fuel to his flaming theatrics. I got enough of this from Octo-Cat, and frankly I liked him far more than this nuisance raccoon who’d become a frenemy at best.

Pringle sighed.“I’m keeping the pretty papers.”

“Why do you even need them?” I asked with a groan.

“I’m taking up origami, and these will do very nicely.” Pringle turned his nose up so high I could only see chin, then he marched straight back to his under-porch apartment.

How did he even know origami was a thing?

And how did he know enough to want to attempt it himself?

What an odd animal.

“See, Mommy! I scared him away!” Paisley sat proudly on the edge of the porch, shaking so hard with excitement that I hadn’t the heart to tell her that Pringle had played us rather than other way around.

“That guy…” Octo-Cat plopped himself down beside the Chihuahua. “He’s getting way too big for his britches.”

I couldn’t agree more, but for the moment I was done discussing the masked menace. We had too much else we could be doing with our day.

“C’mon, you two,” I said with a sigh. “It looks like we need to come up with a new advertising plan.”

As the three of us filed back indoors, a new determination overtook me. My P.I. business would succeed or fail based on its own merits. I would not let an egotistical raccoon with delusions of grandeur stand between me and the role I just knew I was meant to play in this world—or at least in my small corner of it.

“I know that look,” Octo-Cat said with an open-mouthed smile that showed off his pointy teeth. “Nobody puts Angie in a corner.”

I snorted at that one, picturing myself in the classic 80s romance opposite Patrick Swayze. Even though he used to watch only Law& Order, he’d greatly expanded his viewing habits in recent months. Largely, thanks to my nan.

And while I appreciated my cat’s support, I definitely needed to start limiting his television time.

Chapter Three

As it turned out, my cat wasn’t the only one watching too much television these days. Normally, Nan would spend most of her mornings in the kitchen as she did the food prep for the day and whipped up treat after delectable treat for us to enjoy with our daily tea. Today, however, the kitchen sat empty, pristinely clean, and completely abandoned.

“Nan?” My voice felt disturbingly loud as it echoed through the empty manor.

When no response came, I raced to the garage to check if her little red sports car was still parked snugly inside. She often left after lunchtime to volunteer or take a community class, but she generally informed me before heading off. Besides, if she’d left the house early today, I should have seen her from my place on the front porch.

Well, her car sat waiting in the garage, right where it belonged.

So then where was my nan?

Paisley stood on her hindlegs and patted my leg with her tiny clawed feet.“I can still smell her close by. Want me to show you where she is?”

As soon as I nodded, the little dog bolted up the stairs and began scratching at the door to one of the bedrooms we didn’t use.

“Nan?” I called cautiously before pushing it wide open.

Paisley raced in before me, and Octo-Cat slinked in after.

Nan, however, was still nowhere to be seen.

“Paisley, are you sure she’s here?” I asked, seriously beginning to worry now.

“Oh, yes! Up there!” She ran over to the closet and began to jump and do clumsy side flips, not stopping until I looked up and noticed the open attic hatch.

I craned my neck to try to see inside.“Nan?”

She appeared in a cloud of dust. The bright silk scarf on her head featured an emoji print, and she wore cat-eye sunglasses, presumably to protect her eyes from all the floating dust motes.“Oh, hello, dear.”

“What are you doing up there?” I demanded, not any less worried now that I’d found her in a potentially dangerous situation. “How did you even get up there?”

“Just sorting through some things. I started with my bedroom but wasn’t quite ready to call the whole thing quits for the day just yet.” She turned away and crawled out of view.

“Call what quits?” I shouted after her.

“I didn’t know we had a higher place,” Octo-Cat remarked, then dropped low and wiggled his butt, making an impressive leap toward the hatch.

His front paws grazed the entrance but couldn’t get a grip.

“Ouch,” he moaned after he fell clumsily back to the ground.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, attempting to stroke and soothe him.

He flinched and slinked away from my hand.“My poor pride,” he whined. “What kind of a cat can’t stick the landing? Ouch.”

“Oh, Octo-friend. Can I kiss your ouchies?” the dog offered, licking her lips in anticipation.

“Insult to injury,” my cat muttered.

Both animals ran out of the room, leaving me on the ground and Nan somewhere above.

“Nan?” I called again. “What are you doing up there?”

She popped into view again, laughed, and shook her head as if this should have all been obvious.“Why, Mission Marie Kondo, of course!”

“Marie Kon—Wait… Is this from that book everyone’s talking about?” If memory served, there were also memes aplenty.

Nan scrunched her face up.“A book? Hmm, well, I don’t know about that. It’s a show on Netflix. I binged the full first season the other day. I do hope there will be a new season soon.”

I knew for a fact it had been a book first but kept mum.

Her eyes lit up as she explained,“It’s the new Feng Shui. Everyone’s doing it. If something doesn’t spark joy, then it doesn’t belong in your home. Fun, right?”

“Yeah… Fun,” I muttered. Already we had far more house than possessions to put in it. Sometimes I felt like we lived in a museum with all the antiques we’d inherited as part of the estate. We could do with more personal items to fill it out, not fewer.

“Well, are you coming up or am I coming down?” My grandmother tilted her head to the side in a gesture that reminded me very much of her Chihuahua sidekick. “You know what? I’ll come down.”

A moment later she’d scurried out of the crawl space and dropped the rest of the distance to the carpeted floor below. Her knees bent a little on impact, and I worried she’d broken something.

Racing to her side, I gently pulled her back into a standing position.“Oh my gosh! Nan! Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay. What do you take me for? Some kind of invalid?” Both her knees and her voice shook, but shockingly she wasn’t any worse for the wear. Not like Octo-Cat and his poor, damaged pride.

What do I take you for? A seventy-something woman, that’s what! But I didn’t push it since she appeared to be perfectly okay. Maybe one day I’d be in as good of shape as my grandmother, but somehow I doubted it—not when she was part Betty Crocker, part ninja.

“Do me a favor, because you know I worry,” I begged. “Next time you want to go in the attic, grab me first—or at least grab a chair.”

She waved my concerns away.“No need to worry. I’m done for now.”

“Did you get rid of lots of stuff?” I asked, only now noticing the two large trash bags that sat to the side of the closet.

“A good chunk of it. What have you been up to this morning?”

I filled her in on the reappearing flyers and the confrontation with Pringle, ending with the most unbelievable part.“And get this? He says he needs them so he can do origami!” I exploded.

“Oh, good,” Nan said with a pert nod. “I was worried he wouldn’t be able to find any craft supplies.”

“Wait. Are you the one who turned him on to the Japanese art of paper-folding?” Why was I even surprised?

She shrugged.“I had an old book. It wasn’t sparking joy for me, but it seemed to spark joy for our raccoon friend, so I handed it right over.”

“But a book? Does he know how to read?” How could he read if Octo-Cat, who’d lived much more closely with humans, couldn’t?

Nan chuckled.“Well, that’s a question for him, dear. Not me.”

I rolled my eyes hard and let out a long, extra breathy sigh.

“No need to get snippy now,” Nan scolded as she charged toward the door.

I followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen.“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. It’s just I’m trying so hard to find clients for Octo-Cat’s and my business, but nothing seems to be working.”

“Oh, you need clients?” Nan raised an eyebrow my way while filling our tea kettle at the sink.

“Of course we do. It’s been two months, and still we have zero clientele to show for our efforts.” Talk about depressing.

My grandmother set the kettle on the stovetop and turned back to me with a giant grin.“Well, why didn’t you say so? I happen to know someone who is in desperate need of your services.”

“What?” I gasped. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Nan hit me gently with a hand towel.“Calm down, you. I just found out yesterday, and I was quite busy at the time.”

With her Marie Kondo-ing, right. I rearranged my features into a placating smile. Even though I loved my nan more than anyone else in this entire world, sometimes her roundabout methods could be a bit infuriating.

“Well,” I said when she still hadn’t said anything after a full minute. “Who is it?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her face away.“Apologize first. That’s twice you’ve snapped at me in the space of five minutes.”

“I’m sorry.” And I was. I loved Nan’s quirkiness and wouldn’t change her for the world. For all her faults, my grandmother was still my best friend and my idol.

As soon as that final syllable left my mouth, she whipped back toward me to make her big reveal.“I prefer to let you be surprised, but I’ll ask your new client over for dinner tonight so she can give you all the details. I feel quite sure she’ll hire you on to help her out.”

“Thank you, Nan!” I sang, wrapping her in a solid hug. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter that she was playing coy with the details. Nan had found a client, a real, honest-to-goodness client!

Finally, things were looking up for Octo-Cat’s and my P.I. business.

Chapter Four

When the doorbell chimed a spirited rendition of the Village People’s YMCA, I knew two things. My first client was on the other side of that door, and Nan had obviously been having some fun at my expense.

Nan, of course, had refused to divulge any details pertaining to the case or the client, preferring not to shade my judgment, or so she said. I personally believe she just thought it was more fun that way—well, at least for her.

So when I pulled open the door to reveal our mail lady Julie, I was completely taken by surprise.“Julie, hello! How are you today?” I asked cautiously, not quite sure whether she was the client or simply here on urgent US Postal Service business.

“I’ve been better, that’s for sure.” The normally smiling woman stood uncertainly on the porch, a giant frown marring her cherubic features. She wrung her hands and let out an enormous sigh.

“Well, invite our guest in already!” Nan called from the bottom of the staircase. I hadn’t even heard her approach. I’m telling you, she’s part ninja.

“Thank you, Dorothy.” Julie nodded and moved to stand awkwardly in our foyer. She was one of the few people around town who knew and used Nan’s God-given name rather than her preferred nickname.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to discuss business in private.” Nan swept away, hips swinging as she made her way toward the kitchen.

“Oh!” she cried as she twisted back to face us from across the room. “Be a dear and take the cat with you. He has a horrible habit of getting in my way lately.” She paused, opened her mouth, and then shot me a giant, exaggerated wink that Julie surely couldn’t have missed.

Octo-Cat growled as he hopped onto the lowest step.“Just because she can’t understand me doesn’t mean I don’t understand her, and that was hurtful.”

I wanted to comfort him but simply couldn’t with Julie watching us both so closely. “Let’s head up to my office,” I said instead.

What had been a mere guest room when we’d moved in was now my favorite room in the entire manor. Brock Calhoun—who now went by Cal for short—had done a fantastic job converting the space into a luxury library and office, but the crowning feature was the six-foot-long window seat that overlooked the estate’s back gardens. The huge vaulted ceilings and antique crystal chandelier weren’t so bad either, nor were the built-in bookshelves that took up two entire walls from floor to ceiling.

“Wow,” Julie whispered in reverence as she took it all in. “I bet you hardly ever leave this room.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said amicably, even though that wasn’t entirely true. While I definitely spent a few hours reading in my library each week, the fact I hadn’t managed to book any clients to fulfill the office function of the space depressed me. Most days I found it easier to read in my bedroom rather than face my own inadequacy as a private investigator.

Well, that all changed right here, right now, and all thanks to the blessed woman before me.

“Nan says you have a case,” I started once Julie had settled onto the leather fainting couch opposite my large walnut desk and swivel chair. “Catch me up.”

Octo-Cat paced the perimeter of the room, trying—and failing—to act naturally. We’d have to talk about that later.

“I do.” Julie glanced toward the tabby, then turned back to me and cleared her throat. “For the past couple of weeks, mailboxes on my route have been getting vandalized. And mail I know I delivered is also getting reported as never having reached its destination. I know I’m not making any mistakes, but I’m on thin ice at work. The office is blaming me and threatening to put me on administrative leave or even dock my pay to cover the cost of replacing the mailboxes.”

I reached forward and touched her knee sympathetically.“That’s horrible.”

If I wanted to be a good investigator, I needed a good rapport with my clients just as much as I needed my sleuthing skills. Luckily, I’d always adored Julie and considered her—if not quite a friend—a well-liked acquaintance.

Even Octo-Cat appeared moved by her story. He stopped patrolling and jumped up beside her on the couch, then rubbed his head against her hand asking for pets.

“What a sweet kitty,” Julie remarked, which was enough to send him skittering away just as quickly as he’d come. Nobody called him kitty and got away with it. Our guest was just lucky he wasn’t in a swiping mood.

We both watched Octo-Cat settle himself in the window seat and scowl at us from across the room.

“So, you need us to find out who’s taking the mail and damaging the mailboxes so that you won’t keep getting blamed for it,” I summarized.

Julie nodded vigorously, then frowned.“Yes, that would be fantastic. But if you don’t want to help me, I’ll understand.”

“Why wouldn’t we want to help?” My breathing hitched as I waited for her response. The case seemed pretty open and shut, so what could be the problem?

Julie hung her head and let a lone tear fall to her lap.“I can’t pay anything for your help. Ever since the kiddos started college, I’ve had to live paycheck to paycheck, and I’m still drowning in debt. I can’t afford to lose this job, but I also can’t afford to pay you to help me keep it.”

“She expects us to work for free?” Octo-Cat hissed in agitation. “Thank you, next! Move along, sis.”

I glared at him before turning back to Julie with a grin.“We’d be happy to help. No payment required.”

Julie raised her eyes to meet mine, the hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips.“Are you sure? I know it’s asking a lot. I wouldn’t have even thought to ask, but Dorothy insisted and—”

I raised my hand to cut her off.“Totally sure.”

“No, no, no,” Octo-Cat pouted. “What kind of hobbyist works for free? I thought we were running a legitimate operation here?”

I shook my head. Sometimes it was so hard not to talk back to him in the presence of those who didn’t know about our secret connection.

“Totally sure,” I said again, keeping my eyes glued to the irate tabby the whole time.

And now less than fifteen minutes after it started, my meeting with Julie came to an end.“I have to go,” she said, rising to her feet and offering me her hand to shake. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help. I promise I’ll find a way to repay you someday soon.”

“You better!” Octo-Cat spat.

“It’s no problem,” I said with a smile to balance out his obvious agitation. “Our P.I. practice is just that, a practice. We’re happy for the opportunity to keep our skills top-notch.”

Julie sighed wistfully.“It’s really sweet, you and Dorothy doing this together. I hope one day when my girls are a little further away from their teen phase, they’ll want to hang out with me even half as much as you do with your nan.”

I laughed.“Nan’s not really a part of the firm, but we do love spending time together. I’m sure your daughters will come around soon enough.”

“She’s not? Then what’s with all the we and us talk?”

“Oh, um, it’s more like the royal we. I’m the sleuth, but I do bring in outside experts as needed.” I hoped she didn’t notice the way I stumbled over my words and practically tripped coming down the stairs from the shock of my mishap.

I really needed to stop including Octo-Cat when speaking with others. Even the casual we could eventually expose my secret. And as someone who uncovered secrets for a living—you know, theoretically—you’d think I’d be better at hiding them.

“The royal we, indeed,” my cat sneered as he followed us down the stairs.

“Dorothy has my number,” Julie said, lingering near the door. “Thank you again for your help.

“Done already?” Nan appeared, wiping her hands on the edge of her frilly pink polka dot apron.

“I’m in good hands with Angie taking on my case. Thank you for putting us together.”

Nan beamed with obvious pride.“Oh, I’m so glad. Please tell me you’ll stay for dinner. It’s nearly ready.”

“I really can’t, but thank you for the invite.” Julie nodded toward Nan and shook my hand a second time, then excused herself from our home.

“And stay out!” Octo-Cat called as the door latched shut behind her.

Chapter Five

“That was fast,” Nan remarked a second time as I followed her into the kitchen. Even I had to admit that it seemed as if Julie couldn’t wait to get out of here. Was that simply because she had other plans, or could there be another less savory reason? Gosh, I hoped she hadn’t hired us to clear her name for crimes she had, in fact, committed.

No, no. I shook my head and let out a deep breath. How could I even think these things about Julie? She’d always been kind to us, always been reliable and, as best I could tell, honest.

“Looks like you have lots on your mind.” Nan pulled vegetables from the fridge and dropped them beside a clean cutting board. “Fill me in while you fix our salad,” she said, returning to her place of honor at the stove.

I washed the lettuce, then put it in the spinner. Not to brag, but I’d gotten quite good at preparing our nightly veggies. Mostly because Nan didn’t trust me with anything that required heat to prepare. Not after the burnt brisket fiasco of 2019.

“There’s not much to tell,” I said thoughtfully. “Someone’s stealing mail and banging up mailboxes.”

“Oh, I knew that.” Nan moved toward the fridge and grabbed a stick of butter. “It’s why I suggested you two to get together. Did she have anything else to say?”

I kept my focus fixed firmly on the salad.“Only that she’s not able to pay. I told her that’s fine, but Octo-Cat is pretty rankled about it.”

“Well, of course he is. Such a crabby tabby.” She turned and stuck her tongue out at Octo-Cat, who was sitting by his empty food bowl and scowling. I knew better than to feed him early, though. He’d be even more upset by the change in schedule than he’d become when he found out we wouldn’t be getting paid for our first case.

“Well, excuse me for having standards,” the cat said drolly. “And self-respect.”

What a drama queen.

“Well, it’s a good thing his trust fund is more than enough to cover our half of the mortgage and expenses.”

“Indeed,” Nan said, bobbing her head.

Octo-Cat let out a low growl but didn’t add any words to further express his displeasure with me and the situation.

Nan and I worked in silence for a few minutes, each enjoying the peace that came with chopping, stirring, and plating up. That’s when I remembered something from my past that may help with Julie’s case.

“Hey,” I said into the quiet kitchen. My voice seemed extra loud after the brief period of quiet. “Remember when Octo-Cat received his arbitration summons? That was delivered way late, almost too late for us to show up to the hearing. Do you think maybe one of Julie’s colleagues at the postoffice could be to blame for what happened then and maybe also for what’s happening now?”

“It’s possible,” Nan replied with a shrug. “But last time it was a case of a wrong mailing address and slow forward.”

I chewed my lip as I considered this. I remembered it, too, but that still didn’t mean there wasn’t a connection now. “You know what? I’m going to grab that letter just in case. See if it sparks any memories or ideas. It may be nothing, but at least it gives us a place to start.”

I raced up to the library where I kept my important papers stashed in a hanging file system in the bottom drawer of my desk. There wasn’t too much I kept, but it did have a copy of Octo-Cat’s trust fund paperwork, my various associate degree certificates, a copy of our mortgage, that kind of thing. Except…

Everything was gone.

I pulled the drawer completely off the track in case something had fallen behind, but not a single scrap of paper was to be found.

“Nan!” I called at the top of my lungs as I sank the rest of the way to the ground, needing to feel something solid beneath me as panic rushed through my veins. Even though I was sitting on the hardwood floor in front of the desk, my legs still felt weak, my knees shaky. Could all my most important documents really have vanished without a trace?

My grandmother appeared a short while later.“Yes, dear?”

I twisted around to look her in the eye.“Have you been Marie Kondo-ing my things, too?”

She lifted a hand to her chest.“Of course not. I wouldn’t throw your things out without your okay first. Each person needs to go through the process herself. My joy sparklers might not match your joy sparklers. In fact, they probably don’t.”

I lifted up the empty drawer and bit my lip to keep from crying.

“Well, now that’s a pickle.” She crossed the room and took the drawer from me, giving it a good firm shake.

“Oh, dear,” she said when nothing fell from inside. “I’ll go call Charles.”

I kept sitting there even as I heard footsteps carry down the hall. Although there wasn’t really anything my boyfriend could do in this situation, it still felt good knowing he’d be here soon.

While I was the best at piecing together clues and evidence, he always had a way of knowing what to do in tough situations like this.

“What’s the matter with you?” Octo-Cat asked with twitching whiskers. I hadn’t even noticed him enter the room.

“All of my important papers are gone,” I said with a sniff.

“What is it with you and papers going missing?” he asked with a laugh, but then sobered when he noticed I was still quite upset.

“The flyers weren’t my fault,” I reminded him. “And neither is this.”

“No,” he said with a yawn. Good to see he found my turmoil to be so relaxing. When he’d finished his enormous yawn, he added, “The first set of papers were Pringle’s fault. Do you think he took these, too?”

I perked up at this suggestion.“Pringle? Hmm. But he’s not allowed in the house.”

Octo-Cat laughed sarcastically.“Do you really think that stops him?”

“That’s it.” I pushed up and onto my feet, drawing strength from my newfound anger. “I’m calling animal control.”

How could one little raccoon cause so much damage to my business and personal life? And why wouldn’t he just leave me and my things alone?

“Oh, goodie!” Octo-Cat trilled as he trotted down the stairs behind me. “Can I be there when they come? I can’t wait to see the look on his face, when—”

He stopped abruptly when a booming knock sounded on our front door. It seemed far too soon for Charles to have arrived after Nan’s call, but then who…?

Nan ran out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel that she carried with her.“Yes,” she called. “Who is it?”

“It’s Julie!” the mail lady answered, her voice dripping with distress. “Can I come in?”

Chapter Six

Julie, Nan, and I stood in the foyer with Paisley at our heels and Octo-Cat watching from what he deemed a safe distance partway up the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as Julie’s shoulders shook from crying.

Nan put an arm around the mail lady’s shoulders and offered a tissue she’d pulled from her front pocket.

“I was hardly here for ten minutes,” Julie reminded us. “And yet someone ransacked my truck. I didn’t notice until I’d already driven all the way home, and I still can’t believe it.”

“What’s missing?” I asked, fearing what her answer might be.

“Some packages that I was unable to deliver since I had no one to sign for them.” Her expression grew dark, angry. “I’m already in just about as much trouble as I can get at work. What I’m really upset about is that my lucky angel was taken, too.”

“Doesn’t sound very lucky anymore,” Octo-Cat quipped, then laughed at his own joke, his striped, furry head tilting from side to side.

“Your lucky angel?” I asked, dread rising in my chest. I could always print more flyers or order new copies of my paperwork. A lucky angel sounded like it might be irreplaceable.

“Oh, it’s not an expensive thing, but it was real special to me. It was the first Mother’s Day gift my girls ever bought for me with their own money. It’s mostly glass with a bit of gold-like plating along the edges. I keep it in the glove compartment since it’s fragile. That way, it’s always close enough to keep me company as I go about my day.”

“How’d you find out it was missing?” I asked, resisting the urge to start biting at my fingernails from the mounting anxiety.

Julie got a far-off look in her eyes and she swayed slightly from side to side as if in a dream.“My youngest called to update me on college life. That’s why I was in such a rush to say goodbye after our visit, because I knew she’d be calling to check in after the shift at her part-time job ended tonight. I like to hold onto the angel while I talk with either of my girls. It’s the nextbest thing to being able to hug them in my arms.”

“But when you went to get it, it wasn’t there,” I finished for her with a sigh.

She nodded and pointed at me.“Exactly.”

“But you knew it was still in your truck before you came to visit us?” This whole thing was giving me a headache. It had to have been Pringle, which meant his kleptomania had reached alarmingly dangerous heights.

“Of course, it was!” Julie exploded. Suddenly, it didn’t feel as if we were allies trying to solve this thing together. “Like I said, it’s my lucky charm, and I figured I’d need a good bit of luck heading into our meeting, hoping you’d agree to help me for free and all.” She droppedher voice to a husky whisper and glanced hesitantly toward Nan. “D-d-d-did you take my angel, Dorothy?”

Oh, no. It was one thing to blame me, but to even think Nan could… Impossible! Of course, I was quick to defend my grandmother. “No way! You and I both know she didn’t, but I have a pretty good idea who did.”

“Let me guess…” Octo-Cat descended the steps slowly and plopped himself between Julie and me. “A certain, up-to-no-good-ever raccoon?”

Paisley began to bark furiously at this.“Big, bad raccoon!” she cried. “He hurt Mommy’s friend!”

Julie glanced nervously toward the upset little dog and stepped closer to the door.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Nan said, lifting Paisley into her arms and giving her a big, wet kiss.

I kept my attention focused squarely on Julie as I explained,“There’s a raccoon with sticky fingers that lives under our front porch. And, well, I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if he’s the one who snuck into your truck and stole your angel. The packages, too.”

“Angie’s also had some things go missing recently,” Nan explained, “and we’ve already caught him red-handed once.”

Julie’s head whipped back at this news as if she’d just received a blow right to her face. “A raccoon is taking your things? You know this for sure, and yet you haven’t exterminated him yet?”

How could I explain that killing the raccoon would be akin to murdering a human in my book? No matter how much he got on my nerves, I would never hurt him to make my life run a little smoother.

“My dear Angie has a soft heart,” Nan explained with a sad smile.

“Can you get it back for me?” Julie asked with another sniffle. I had no idea whether this newest round of tears were caused by sorrow or by hope—or perhaps both at the same time. “Can you get my angel back?”

“Of course, we can,” I said, shooting a worrying glance Nan’s way. If I was going to recover stolen property from a raccoon burrow, I’d need a bit of privacy to do it.

“Dinner’s just about ready,” my grandmother said right on cue. “While Angie is out dealing with the raccoon, I’ll need someone to stay here and eat it with me. C’mon, dear.” She guided Julie toward the dining room before anyone could argue.

I marched out the door with the animals in close pursuit. And even though I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, I had to play it cool or risk Julie overhearing.

“I’ll get him, Mommy!” Paisley volunteered, and before I could stop her she ran into the raccoon’s lair beneath the porch.

“Paisley, no!” I hissed, worry beating its ugly wings within me. “Get back here!”

Pringle was about five times her size and could really hurt her if he felt threatened by her unexpected entry into his home.

“Well, this could all go terribly, terribly wrong,” Octo-Cat said with a sigh. “That’s dogs for you, though. Always doing. Never thinking.” Yes, Paisley had become his closest friend in recent months—and, no, he hadn’t waivered one bit in his prejudice toward dogs. Contradictions wereokay in his book, as long as he was the one making them.

Tires crunched in the distance, and I glanced up just in time to see Charles’s car pulling up our long driveway.

He parked right in front of the porch.“Nan told me you’re having a little raccoon problem,” he said as he moved around to the trunk of his car and popped the lid.

“More like a big raccoon problem,” I mumbled.

Charles grabbed a pair of shovels and a flashlight, then slammed the trunk closed again.“Well then, let’s get to work. Shall we?”

Chapter Seven

Charles and I approached the slim, jagged hole that led into Pringle’s under-porch apartment, shovels in hand. Octo-Cat stayed on the porch, preferring not to get directly involved if he could avoid it. Paisley, of course, had already charged bravely ahead against my wishes.

“Pringle,” I whisper-yelled at the hole, praying he was in a good enough mood to spare my poor overeager Chihuahua warrior. “Get out here!”

A little head with shining eyes poked out through the overturned grass and dirt—not Pringle’s, but Paisley’s. Oh, thank goodness!

“Hi, Mommy,” she said with a giant, excited shiver. “The raccoon isn’t home, but he sure has a lot of stuff under there!”

More than anything, I was happy to see Paisley had survived her foolish venture without so much as a scratch on her tiny head, but I was also happy about the intel she’d gotten for us.

“I guess that works in our favor,” I said. “It will be easier to get in there and get what we need without raccoon interference.” Glancing up at Charles, I backtracked a little and explained, “Pringle’s not home.”

He chuckled good-naturedly.“Yup, I got that from context. I’m getting really good at understanding your one-sided conversations, you know. I’ve had lots and lots of practice.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, followed closely by Charles’s lips as he pressed them against my skin. Instantly, I felt better, more in control of the situation. What can I say? He just had that kind of effect on me.

I hummed a satisfied beat.“How did I get so lucky to land the best boyfriend in all of Blueberry Bay?” I asked, turning to press my mouth directly to his.

“Only Blueberry Bay?” Charles asked as he playfully twisted a strand of my hair around his index finger, then bopped my nose.

“Okay, then how about the whole state of Maine?” I suggested with a wink.

“How about eww, gross, not in front of the cat?” Octo-Cat groused, jumping off the porch and charging over to stand between us. “This is the reason I call him UpChuck. Every time he’s around, the two of you make me want to vomit.”

Actually, my cat had begun referring to my boyfriend as UpChuck long before we’d started dating, but now wasn’t the time to argue over the timeline. We had a raccoon hideout to raid.

I raised my shovel and smiled awkwardly at my companions.“Ready?”

Charles answered by stabbing his shovel down into the ground and lifting out a giant heap of dirt.“Oh, yeah.”

“This is almost as disgusting as what you two were doing before,” Octo-Cat growled, returning to the porch. He loved exploring the outdoors but hated getting dirty. Sure enough, the sight of the disturbed dirt was enough to have him whipping out his sandpaper tongue and getting to work.

“How can I help, Mommy?” Paisley asked, shifting her weight back and forth between her two front paws in a merry little dance. Unlike the cat, she loved any and every chance to get dirty. On more than one occasion, I’d found her in our laundry room rolling around in the dirty clothes pile with an expression of absolutely unfettered joy.

“Stay out of the way for right now, because I don’t want you to get hurt while we’re digging.”

Paisley’s face fell for an instant. It seemed she was the only one who didn’t understand how small and vulnerable she could be when danger struck—and even when it didn’t. Even though I wanted to keep her safe, I knew better than to completely exclude her from our mission.

“Once we’re done digging, you can help bring things out,” I offered, making my voice high and hyper. “Deal?”

“Deal,” she barked and ran up the porch steps. She had a hard time running in a straight line since her tail was wagging so furiously. Still, she made it to her kitty bestie’s side, tail still wagging a staccato against the porch floorboards.

Turning my attention back to the matter at hand, I realized the pile of dirt beside Charles had grown by several shovelfuls now and I hadn’t even broken earth yet. I raised my shovel again, ready to dig in, when Charles stopped me with a sharp command.

“Grab the flashlight and see what you can make out under there,” he said, lifting yet another pile of dirt out of the way.

I searched the yard until I spotted the flashlight lying in a nearby patch of grass. Grabbing it with both hands, I switched it on. Twilight had already begun to set in. Within half an hour, the sky would be completely dark. We needed to hurry. I had no idea when Pringle would be back, but I knew he had the benefit of night vision plus knowledge of the terrain. And while Octo-Cat could see in the dark, he wasn’t exactly the most hands-on when it came to tonight’s task.

I approached the widened hole carefully so as not to be greeted by a shovelful of dirt to the face and dropped to my hands and knees, lowering myself all the way to my stomach. With the flashlight’s help, I could now see most of the space beneath the porch for the first time ever.

“Oh my gosh,” I squealed, forgetting to keep my voice low so as not to be overheard by Julie inside. “It’s like a dragon’s lair under there. No wonder he thinks of himself as some kind of fairytale knight.”

I just could not get over how much the raccoon had managed to stash in such a confined space. Everywhere I looked, slim boxes, messy stacks of paper, bits of trash, foil, and assorted odds and ends from inside our house crowded the edges of the lair. I spotted a throw pillow that had been missing for weeks. Even one of Octo-Cat’s prized teacups. Oh, he was going to be livid over that one.

“Do you see my angel?” Julie asked from behind me. I hadn’t even heard her come outside, but now that she was here, I needed to be extra careful with how I proceeded.

Sweeping my light around the hidey hole a second time, I tried to focus on anything that caught and played with the light. I’d just about given up on finding it without having to physically get into the space when a little sparkle of shining gold caught my eye.

“Yes! Yes, I see it!” I cried excitedly. The sooner we could return Julie’s stolen treasure, the sooner we could get her out of here and the better we could protect my secret. I reached into the hole as far as I could but came up at least a foot short.

“Paisley,” I called. “Can you help Mommy get the angel?”

The Chihuahua, always eager to please, ran over with a joyous bark, then dived right back into the hole.

I continued to stretch my arm toward the angel and pointed.“Right there. Bring it to Mommy!”

Paisley darted toward the angel and clutched it in her mouth. Unlike Octo-Cat, she didn’t mind when I talked to her the way humans normally talked to animals. She was just so happy to be a part of Nan’s and my life, she never really questioned anything we did or how we chose to do it.

“Good dog!” I gushed as she made her way back to me. “Good dog!”

Charles helped me back to my feet, then Paisley emerged with the prized possession still held securely between her jaws.

“Oh, that’s it,” Julie said with yet another sniffle as she bent down to accept the trinket from Paisley. “That’s my angel. Thank you. Thank you so much!”

“Sorry about that. The good news is that a little polish should have it as good as new,” I said, hoping this observation would prove to be true.

“Clearly we need to do something about that raccoon,” Nan added with a heavy sigh as she shook her head.

We stood in silence for a few moments, until…

A chittering yowl hurtled through the air, an angry raccoon following close behind it.“My home! What have you done to my home?” Pringle yelled, lifting both hands to his head and looking as if he were trying to push his brains back in through his ears.

“Get back!” Julie cried, keeping her eyes on Pringle as she backed slowly toward her truck. “That thing could have rabies.”

“Rabies?” Pringle fell to all fours and ambled after Julie. “That’s speciesist, and I don’t appreciate it… Hey, wait, that’s mine!”

“Stop!” I shouted just as Pringle raised himself to his hindlegs again and was making ready to swipe the angel straight out of Julie’s hands.

Everyone turned toward me, waiting to see what my big plan was. Um, I didn’t have one. Not yet, anyway.

“Julie, you should go. I’ll call you later to check in on your case. First I need to deal with our raccoon friend here,” I muttered.

I just hoped my use of the word friend might soften Pringle to what was coming next.

Chapter Eight

We all watched in silence as Julie hightailed it out of there. I couldn’t really blame her for wanting to escape the disaster unfolding in my front yard. The poor thing had been framed for mail theft and property damage, had something special stolen right out of her vehicle, and then, to top it all off, she’d been chased after by an angry raccoon.

Unfortunately, what was a horror show for most people was just another day in my zany, critter-filled life—and this one wasn’t even close to over yet.

Pringle turned on me, fury filling his dark eyes.“Hey, lady. You’ve got some serious explaining to do.”

“Me?” I screeched. Finally, I could be as loud as I wanted without fearing discovery. “You’re the one who stole my flyers, Julie’s angel, and apparently half the neighborhood, too.”

Pringle clicked his tongue and stared down his nose at me.“Haven’t we moved past the flyers?”

“No, we have not moved past the flyers! Why do you keep taking everything that isn’t nailed down?” A sudden shocking thought occurred to me, sending a shiver straight through my body. “Are we going to have to start nailing everything down?”

Pringle flashed a devilish grin my way.“You can try, but I know how to use a hammer.”

My goodness! He knew how to read, how to use a hammer, how to break his way into a car. Was there anything this crazy creature couldn’t do?

“Stop messing with my life,” I said between clenched teeth.

He took a staggering step back.“Me? Mess with your life? I’ll have you know that I was here first, Missy.”

“Um, Angie dear?” Nan broke in at a good moment considering I had no idea how I was going to respond to his latest jab. “Do the two of you need some privacy?”

“No. Of course not,” I said, shaking my head with a huff.

“Actually, yes,” Pringle countered. “If we’re going to have it out, it’s best that there aren’t any witnesses.”

I gulped hard, blinking in disbelief.“Did you just threaten me?”

He shrugged nonchalantly.“Maybe I did. The question is what are you going to do about it?”

Paisley jumped into the fray, angrily kicking her feet up behind her in a move that resembled chicken scratch.“Nobody hurts my mommy!”

“Relax, half-pint. I’m not going to hurt her,” he told the dog. “Although I should, considering what she’s done to my beautiful home. It’s in ruins!”

“Give me a break. You literally live in a hole in the ground,” Octo-Cat mumbled.

Pringle sank back onto his haunches and shook his head.“That cut me deep, Octavius. Real deep.”

“Um, maybe you guys should go,” I told Nan, seeing as we were getting nowhere with all the intrusions to our conversation. Pringle and I needed to have this out without my cat mocking him or my dog threatening him, and I just needed to be done with this whole migraine-inducing ordeal. “Take Paisley and Octo-Cat, too.”

Charles squeezed my shoulder before reaching down to scoop up the agitated Chihuahua.“Let’s go, guys,” he said.

“This isn’t over!” Paisley shouted in her adorably squeaky and very non-scary voice. “It’s not even close to over!”

“Shh, baby girl. Shh,” Nan cooed.

And together the two humans and two animals marched back into the house, the animals less than enthusiastic about leaving me behind to deal with the raccoon drama on my own.

“Why are you stealing things?” I demanded with my arms crossed over my chest once Pringle and I were alone in the yard again.

“I’m not stealing.” He stopped to roll his eyes as if talking to the biggest moron on the planet—I most definitely did not appreciate that implication. “Look, it’s a simple case of manifest destiny. Right? I’m not stealing things. I’m claiming them in the name of Pringle.”

“How is that different?” Did he really just trot out one of the terms I’d learned in middle school U.S. History and then use it to justify his crimes? This was going to be a long night, and I could feel it getting even longer.

“Look, I’m no dummy. I’ve read your human history books. I know all about how this country was founded. Well done, I might add. Those guys decided they wanted more land, so they took it. I decided I wanted more treasures, so I took them. So what?”

“This is not the age of exploration,” I countered in disbelief. “And it’s not okay to take things without permission. It wasn’t really okay then, either, but hindsight and all that.”

“Well, sorrrrrry. I didn’t realize the rules changed depending on who they applied to.”

The worst part was how Pringle absolutely nailed his argument against humanity. Any argument I made would sound unintelligent by comparison, and I didn’t want to resort to being a bully.

Luckily, Pringle kept right on going.“If you’re going to be such a wet blanket about it, then take all your stupid human trash back. I didn’t find what I was looking for anyway.”

Well, this was new information.

“What were you looking for?” I asked breathlessly, more curious than annoyed now.

The raccoon lifted both hands into the darkening sky and shook them in a bang-on display of jazz hands.“Secrets,” he whispered dramatically.

That took me by surprise.“What do you mean secrets?”

“Exactly what I said. I like reading and watching TV as much as the next guy, but it’s all fake, made-up stuff. The drama is far more interesting when it’s real. Don’t you think?”

I swallowed hard, then sputtered,“Um, what do you mean?”

“I’m talking secrets, honey.” Pringle raised one eyebrow and shook his head. “Have you really forgotten already?”

I was almost afraid to ask the next question, but I couldn’t keep it in. “What secrets do you have under there?”

“Most of them are pretty tame. The MacIntyres are behind on their utility bills. A kid a few blocks over has an arraignment next week on shoplifting charges. Mild stuff. Well, most of the time, anyway.”

And just like that, all the remaining pieces clicked into place.“So, it was you taking the mail?”

“Of course it was me!” He threw both hands up in the air as if he couldn’t even deal with my slow human brain anymore.

But I still had more questions.“Why did you vandalize the mailboxes?”

He shrugged.“Seemed like a good idea at the time. Aren’t you going to ask about the big secret I have?”

I shivered. Yes, I was curious, but this had to end somewhere, and I worried that by taking too much of a visible interest, Pringle would assume his bad behavior was justified.“I don’t really like gossip, so no. Thank you, though.”

“That’s too bad,” the raccoon said, a sinister smile spreading from cheek to furry cheek. “If it were me, I’d want to know.”

“Know what?” I asked, hating myself for playing right into his sticky little hands.

He dropped to all fours and closed the distance between us. Placing one hand on my shoe, he stared up at me with wide, intelligent eyes.“Know that the one person I trusted the most in this world has been lying to me my whole life.”

No. No way. It couldn’t be.

Why was I even listening to this? Clearly, Pringle was just trying to stir up trouble, and yet…

“Nan?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Pringle nodded, a solemn expression overtaking his dark face.“Guess it’s not a secret anymore.”

Chapter Nine

According to the raccoon that lived under my porch, my nan had some kind of deep, dark secret that would change everything. We’d already established that Pringle was a thief. Could he be a liar, too?

I should have turned away and refused to hear any more, but I just couldn’t help but wonder… Might the raccoon be telling the truth?

Pringle placed a hand on my leg and gave me a short series of pats.“There, there, princess. I can see you’re taking this hard. I can also see that you haven’t decided whether or not you believe me, so let me do you a solid.”

He turned away ruefully and slipped under the porch, emerging mere seconds later with an aged envelope gripped in his hand. He lifted it toward me in offering.“Be careful with this. I don’t want you getting any dirty human fingerprints on it or otherwise contaminating the best secret I’ve ever collected.”

My hands shook as I accepted the thin letter. It had already been covered in actual dirt from its time within the raccoon’s lair, so I didn’t see how my touching it could make things any worse. The envelope had been torn clear across the top, and there was a single sheet of cream-colored paper folded and placed inside.

Dorothy Loretta Lee was written in a tight, controlled script. The top corner didn’t have a sender’s name, only an address somewhere in Georgia. Seeing it firsthand, I had no doubt the letter was authentic.

“Read it,” the raccoon urged, watching me with a shiny, probing gaze.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, still not ready, doubting I’d ever be ready.

“From your nan’s things,” he said with a slow nod. “It was a couple weeks ago. I noticed her going up into the attic, and then I remembered that I have a private entrance into that place, so I climbed through the hole in the roof, and—”

“Wait. There’s a hole in my roof?”

“Not the point of my story.” He paused, presumably to make sure I had no other questions or arguments before he continued. “Anyway, I climbed through the hole in the roof, but I couldn’t find anything good. So I watched and waited. Eventually she went back, and that’s when I saw she had aspecial hiding place tucked into the wall. There was this wooden border between the floor and the wall.”

“Baseboard trim?” I suggested gently. Why was I getting caught up in the details?

“Sure. Whatever. Point is if you kick it, it falls out, and behind it, there’s a hole. I found a lot of pretty green papers there, too.”

“Green papers?” I gasped. Could he mean…? “Would you show them to me?”

“Sure thing, babe.” Pringle went back under the porch and was gone for a little longer this time. As tempted as I was to read the letter, I still couldn’t bring myself to face whatever truths it would reveal. Would I still be able to look at my beloved nan the same way once I knew?

The raccoon returned with a giant wad of bundled bills in his hands. One-hundred-dollar bills.

“Pretty, right?” he asked with a smile. “They’re not exactly the right shape, but I thought they might make nice paper cranes once I get going with my origami.”

“Give me that,” I said. At the same time, I grabbed the currency from his paws. “This came from Nan’s hiding place in the attic?”

“Yeah, it was with the letter and some other papers. They were boring, though.” He tilted his head to the side in thought and then amended his previous statement with, “Well, all except one.”

“Can I see them?” I asked, just short of begging. Anything to stall a bit longer.

Pringle shook his head and clicked his tongue.“How about you read the letter, eh? I’m going to need it back, so just get on with it already.”

He was right. I couldn’t stall any longer. Reaching into the envelope, I pulled out the antique letter at last and attempted to smooth the wrinkles before lifting it toward a beam of light from the porch.

“Careful with that. It’s important to me,” Pringle hissed, but I had already tuned him out and lost myself in the words that waited for me on that page.

Dear Dorothy,

Dorothy, that was my nan. I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself to read the next couple lines.

I know what I did to you was wrong and that you’ll probably never forgive me. You don’t owe me anything, but I have no one left to turn to.

That sounded awful. What had the letter writer done? And if it was so bad, why had she kept this letter tucked away all these years? I would definitely be asking Nan, but first I had to get through this short but apparently earth-shattering missive.

Don’t punish little Laura for my mistakes.

Laura was my mother’s name. Could she be the “little Laura” in question? Oh my gosh. What had happened? What did this mean?

Give her a chance at a better life, at the life we always dreamed of living together.

Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I almost stopped right there, but it was too late. The cat was already half out of the bag. I might as well get it all the way out into the open.

I’ll be home on leave in two weeks’ time and will wait for you in our place that Thursday night.

A secret meeting. Did she go? If so, what happened? What did he want? Was it a he? It seemed that way with the reference to the life they’d dreamed about living together. There was just one little line left, which I read with teary eyes.

Please be the better person. Please come.

W. McAllister

I finished reading, even more confused than before I’d started. Who was W. McAllister and what had he wanted with my nan? Did he know my mom? Was she the Laura in the letter?

“I found this in there, too.” Pringle raised another sheet of paper my way. Apparently he’d collected it while I’d been engrossed in the letter.

Of course, I recognized the official nature of the document right away. It boasted an intricate colored border and at the top of the page read Certificate of Live Birth.

The mother was named as Marilyn Jones, and the father had been listed as William McAllister, most likely the same W. McAllister that had written the letter to Nan. The place of birth was that same unknown town in Georgia, and the baby had been named Laura—my mother’s name.

The date of birth matched my mom’s, too. It had to be her.

Did this mean that she had never really been Nan’s?

That I wasn’t Nan’s, either?

And what was with this all going down in Georgia? Nan had spoken fondly of her memories growing up in the south, but she’d claimed to be from one of the Carolinas.

Not Georgia. Never Georgia.

And if she’d fibbed about her home state, then what else might she have lied about over the years?

Oh my gosh, did my mom know about any of this? If not, she’d be devastated to learn now. Should I tell her? Or wait until I knew more first?

I had so many questions, and short of tracking down this William McAllister, there was only one person I could ask.

I marched into the house, letter and birth certificate in hand, to confront Nan and demand the truth.

Chapter Ten

Nan and Charles sat in the living room, sipping on matching mugs of hot cocoa topped with giant heaps of marshmallow fluff. He wasn’t a big fan of tea, so Nan kept this alternate hot drink around mostly just for him.

Paisley had cuddled into Nan’s side, and Octo-Cat sat on his favorite perch looking out the window. More than likely, he’d been keeping tabs on me this whole time.

They all looked so cozy and content. I almost felt bad for disturbing that peaceful moment, but then I remembered that I was the one who’d been wronged, lied to. And for my entire life. Wow.

I stood frozen at the edge of the living room, the birth certificate and letter clutched between shaking hands. Where could I possibly begin?

“Hey! You can’t just take people’s things without asking!” Pringle cried from the foyer. Apparently, he’d followed me inside despite our rule that he wasn’t allowed in the house. That snapped me right out of my deer-in-headlights moment.

And I turned on him so fast, he reared back in fright.“Are you really lecturing me on decorum right now?” I demanded, hand on hip. “You can’t expect things from others when you’re not willing to do the same for them.”

Charles set his mug onto the coffee table and approached me carefully.“Angie, is everything all right, sweetie?”

“No, it’s not!” I fumed, hating that I’d yelled at him now, too. None of this was his fault. Or Octo-Cat’s. Or Paisley’s. Or really even Pringle’s.

“What’s that you have, dear?” Nan asked, remaining seated firmly in her favorite chair. It was her. She’d caused the pain that threatened to rip my heart right in two. The very same woman who’d taught me the importance of honesty as a child had lied to me my entire life.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” I strode over to her and dropped both pieces of paper into her lap.

My grandmother froze. It seemed as if even her heart stopped beating for a moment before she gingerly plucked the papers from her lap and set them on the coffee table.“I haven’t the foggiest,” she told me as she calmly delivered both mugs to the kitchen sink and then started up the stairs.

“Oh, no!” I shouted, charging after her. “You are not getting away that easily! What is this, and why didn’t I know about it? Does mom know about it?”

Nan remained silent as she climbed the steps at her normal pace. It was almost as if I weren’t there at all.

“Hey, why aren’t you answering me?” I demanded as a new wave of tears began to sting my eyes.

Nan reached her bedroom door, then turned back to me. Her voice was quiet and almost completely devoid of emotion as she said,“I’m sorry, dear, but I’m not feeling too terribly well all of a sudden. I think I’ll just excuse myself to bed for the evening.”

Before I could argue, she slipped into the room and clicked the door shut behind her. Still shocked by what I’d learned, and even more so by the fact that my normally talkative grandmother refused to discuss it with me, I twisted the knob hard and pulled.

But it wouldn’t budge.

Locked out by my own grandmother!

I pounded on the door instead.“You’re going to have to talk about it with me eventually!” I shouted into the wooden barrier.

A warm hand brushed my arm, causing me to jump in my skin.

“C’mon,” Charles said, gently guiding me back toward the grand staircase. “It seems like you both could use some space to work things out right about now.”

“Did you read it?” I asked through the hot tears that flowed freely now. “Did you read the letter?”

He nodded, his mouth a tight bow.

“What do you think it means?” I asked, my voice cracking partway through that awful question.

“I hate to guess at it.” His voice remained soft, comforting. “It’d be much better if we heard from Nan directly.”

I let out a bitter laugh.“Well, she doesn’t seem to be too keen on sharing. Do you think this means she’s not my real nan?”

“Of course, she’s your real nan. She raised you. She’s been there your whole life. The letter—whatever it means—it doesn’t change anything.”

“What about my mom, though? Is she the Laura on the birth certificate? Is that what the letter is about? Did her dad give her to Nan for some reason? And does her real mom even know what happened to her?” It was all too horrible to even think about. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop doing just that.

Charles sat on the couch and opened his arms, inviting me to cuddle against him.“I know it’s all so confusing and upsetting right now, but I promise you it will be okay. Whatever this is, it doesn’t change who your nan is, who you are.”

I laughed again. Angry.“If it’s no big deal, then why would she keep it a secret all these years? Why would she refuse to talk about it now?”

“I don’t know the answers to those questions, but I’ll be here to help you figure them out for yourself.” He pressed a warm kiss to my forehead.

“I can’t,” I sobbed, all my hot-headed energy ebbing away.

Charles just hugged me tighter.“What do you mean you can’t? You’re Angie Russo, Pet Whisperer P.I. You’re the woman who solved her first official case in less than an hour. That’s pretty incredible.”

Oh, yeah, I guess Julie’s case was solved. Pringle had admitted to taking the mail and banging up the mailboxes. All I had to do is offer him something he wanted more than whatever secrets he thought he might find, and he’d be sure to stop.

Case solved. Whoop-de-do.

I tried to smile but couldn’t. Instead, Charles held me as I cried into his nicely pressed work shirt.

The one person I’d trusted most in this entire world had kept something monumental from me. If I couldn’t rely on her to be honest with me, then who could I count on?

Charles stroked my hair and made soothing noises, reminding me that there was at least one person in my corner, no matter what.

Octo-Cat jumped onto the couch beside me and licked my hand tentatively. Okay, one person and one cat—and probably one dog, too. Though I had no doubt Paisley was busy comforting Nan right about now.

I ran my fingers through Octo-Cat’s silky fur, appreciating his friendship more than ever in that moment.

“Angela, I can see you are quite upset,” he murmured, proving just how far we’d come since fate first flung us together. “Does this mean we’re out of Evian?”

Leave it to my cat to put things into stark perspective.

“No. Don’t worry,” I said with a chuckle, feeling lighter already. “We have plenty of Evian.”

I scratched him between the ears and then pulled myself up from the couch. A nice cool glass of Evian would do us all good right about then.

Chapter Eleven

Despite the night cap of perfectly chilled Evian, I had a hard time drifting to sleep. Sometime early the next morning, I gave up on getting any meaningful shuteye and went to see if Nan was up yet.

Oh, not only was she up…

She was already gone—and with her little dog, too. Darn, I could have used Paisley’s eternal sense of optimism to help get me through what I knew was going to be a tough day.

Well, it’s not like Nan and Paisley would be gone forever. Eventually, they had to come back. Eventually, the woman who was maybe not my actual grandmother would have to give me some answers. After all, Pringle had given me undeniable evidence that something wasn’t quite right about our family past, and even though I was one whole generation removed from whatever scandal Nan had worked so hard to keep hidden, it still upset me deeply.

Octo-Cat sat waiting for me on the kitchen counter. Nan didn’t like it when he dirtied her food prep surfaces, but I hadn’t the heart or the inclination to correct him—especially not today.

“Good morning, Angela,” he said, making eyes toward his empty food bowl. “You’re right on time for my morning repast.”

“C’mon,” I mumbled as I shuffled toward the pantry and extracted a can of Fancy Feast. I also grabbed a clean Lenox teacup and matching saucer, the only dishes he was willing to eat or drink from. After setting both on the floor, I grabbed the half-empty bottle of Evian from the fridge and poured it into the delicate filigreed teacup until it was exactly three-fourths full.

During our time together, he’d learned to appreciate the nuanced flavor of chilled water, and I’d learned not to question his sometimes ridiculous standards and completely non-optional routines.

“Many thanks,” he mumbled before digging in with aplomb.

I grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge since Nan wasn’t around to make coffee, and I didn’t feel like dealing with my deep-rooted fear of getting electrocuted on top of everything else so early in the day.

“So what’s on our schh-edule for today?” my cat asked, over-emphasizing his speech as he often liked to do when he was feeling fancy—usually in the mornings and usually post-Fancy Feast.

I considered his question for a few moments. Of course, I already knew exactly what we needed to do, but that didn’t mean I liked it. He probably wouldn’t, either, but there was no time like the present.

I forced a smile.“We need to talk to Pringle and see what it will take to get him to help us.”

Octo-Cat groaned, refusing to even pretend he liked this plan.“Do we have to?”

“It’s the quickest, most surefire way to figure out what Nan’s hiding, especially since she doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

“I did find it a little strange how quickly she ran out of here this morning.” His voice became deep, cold, as he cast his eyes toward the floor. “She didn’t even stop to give me a pet hello.”

Poor guy. There was nothing he hated more than being ignored when he wanted attention. Of course, that had never stopped him from ignoring me when it suited him to do so. Double standards were just a part of being a cat owner, and I’d accepted that a long time ago.

“Nan’s always been a lot strange, but she’s also always been honest and upfront. At least that’s what I thought.” I sighed and took another sip from my can of Diet Coke. Yes, I knew he was hurting from that morning’s slight, but I was hurting, too—and if you asked me, it was for far bigger, far more painful reasons.

My cat studied me with large amber eyes.“You’re really upset by this, aren’t you?”

I nodded and sighed again.“I really am.”

He moaned as if in terrible agony.“Well, that won’t do. Let’s go rouse the raccoon and get this over with.” He traipsed out of the kitchen, his tail held high as he led the way to his electronic pet door and slipped outside.

Aww, he really did love me. Sometimes I still wondered about that, given his hot and cold behavior when it came to pretty much everything he ever encountered. But today his willingness to do something that mildly annoyed him in order to mend my badly broken heart gave me all kinds of warm fuzzies.

When I joined him outside on the porch, he sat and motioned with one paw toward the giant gaping hole that led into Pringle’s lair. “Well, go ahead.”

I approached slowly, my voice soft, beseeching.“Pringle?”

“What do you want?” the raccoon growled from somewhere under his porch. Actually, it was my porch. Must not forget that.

“I was wondering if you could help us get to the bottom of that secret you shared with me last night?” I begged.

If my cat’s moods ran hot and cold, Pringle wavered between the freezing and boiling points on that same wretched thermometer. His warm was almost angry, though. In fact, did we really need his help? Was it worth dealing with his attitude and trickery?

Yes, I realized, my heart dropping to the ground. Yes, we did need him. Darn it.

He poked his head out of the hole and grimaced.“Actually, I’m not very happy with you right now.” That was unexpected.

“What? Why?” I was already having a hard time coming to him hat in hands. If I had to spend half the morning groveling and begging, we’d never make any progress at all.

He rubbed his temples and squinted hard against the rising sun. Well, at least we both gave each other headaches.

“I wasn’t giving you the papers,” he explained with a tired yet demanding voice. “I showed them to you to see, not to keep. I refuse to help until you give back what’s mine.”

Octo-Cat came galloping over with impressive speed.“Excuse you? Don’t those papers actually belong to Nan? Didn’t you steal them away from her in the first place?”

“Not helping,” I groaned, nudging Octo-Cat gently to the side with my foot, a slight I knew I’d pay for later. “I’m sorry, Pringle. That was really rude of me. I was just in such shock that I forgot. I’ll go get them for you right now.”

When I returned with the letter and birth certificate in hand, Pringle was waiting on the porch.

“I’ll take those,” he said, yanking them away even though I would’ve given them to him freely. He tucked both into his armpit and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, how can I help you? Make it snappy. I’m a very busy animal, you know.”

I nodded toward the papers he’d stashed within his gray fur. “Those told part of a secret, but not the whole thing. I need to know the rest. Can you help?”

He cocked his head to the side and sighed heavily.“That depends.”

Octo-Cat hissed and raised the hair on his back.“Depends? Depends! Stop being a furry jerk wad and help already. You started this!”

“Madame, please control your associate.” He shook his head as if this all pained him greatly.

“Octo-Cat, I’ve got this,” I told him with an apologetic smile, then turned back to the raccoon with what I was sure had to be a very poorly concealed grimace. “Go ahead, Pringle.”

The raccoon walked a few paces, then turned his face over his shoulder dramatically and sized me up.“I’m not sure how much you get around the forest these days, but I’m not just some amateur gumshoe. I’m a legitimate business animal now.”

Octo-Cat exploded upon hearing this claim.“I don’t believe this. Does he reall—”

As much as I hated to do it, I pushed my best feline friend through the pet door and then blocked it with my leg.“You’re in business?” I asked peaceably.

He nodded animatedly; his chest puffed with pride.“Yes, indeed. You’re looking at the proud owner and key talent behind Pringle Whisperer, P.I. I’ll have you know that it’s the very best investigation firm in the area.”

I pinched the skin on the inside of my wrist to stop myself from saying something snarky. I had no idea this masked thief stole ideas and business models in addition to papers and trinkets. I also hugely resented the implication that his P.I. outfit was superior to the one I ran with Octo-Cat. But, ugh, I still needed his help.

“Congratulations,” I managed, thinking it was a good thing I had pushed Octo-Cat in through the cat door, otherwise there would be a definite brawl right about now. “So can I hire you to help me out here?”

He smiled wide, revealing two rows of gleaming, pointed teeth.“Of course you can, princess. But it’ll come at a price.”

“You’re going to charge me?” I balked, remembering the stack of pretty green bills he planned to use for origami. He didn’t even know what cash was, let alone its value, considering he had a tendency to just take anything he wanted. “What do you even need money for?”

He rubbed his thumb and index finger together.“Not money. Favors.”

I took a moment to soak this in. When I’d promised Octo-Cat a favor in exchange for his cooperation, I’d ended up with the giant manor house that had once belonged to his late owner. I’d grown to love our new house, but it was still a steep price to pay for getting him to agree to wear a cheap pet harness one time.

“Well,” Pringle prompted me, reminding me that I still hadn’t responded to his heinous offer. “Are you in or out?”

Oh, I knew I would come to regret this, but I also knew I needed him and that the longer I went without untangling Nan’s secrets, the more desperate I would become.

“Fine.” I squatted down and offered him my index finger, which he promptly accepted and shook in agreement.

“Excellent. Then it seems we’ve got ourselves a deal,” Pringle said, steepling his fingers in true villain fashion.

Well, at least he was on my side this time. Um, right?

Chapter Twelve

My deal with the sometimes downright devilish raccoon made, I opened the front door wide and invited him to join us inside.

“I’ve never been so insulted in all my life,” Octo-Cat grumbled, apparently having overhead our entire conversation from the other side of the blocked pet door. “And don’t you know better than to make an open-ended bargain with a crook?”

Pringle bared his teeth.“You know, I used to like you,” he spat at the cat. “Idolize you, even. Pffft. Pathetic.”

“Oh, and now you don’t? I’m so hurt,” my cat snarked right back. These two were pretty well-matched when it came to conversational gymnastics. It was a shame the only thing they wanted to do was fight each other rather than work together.

I had to do something to get everyone back on track. Perhaps asking nicely would do the trick?

“Guys, that’s enough,” I said with a stern look. “Like it or not, we need to work together on this one. I need you to put your differences aside and recognize that we’re all on the same team here.”

“At least one of you has a bit of sense,” Pringle said, shooting a dirty look toward Octo-Cat. Sigh.

Much to my surprise and delight, the tabby stayed quiet. His wildly flicking tail belied his true feelings, though.

I offered him an appreciative smile before moving forward with the plan.“Let’s get started in the attic. Pringle, can you show me the hiding place you mentioned the other night? The one in the baseboards?”

He nodded and gave me the thumbs up sign. I swear he was becoming more human by the day.“Sure. I’ll meet you up there,” he said.

“Um, can’t we just go up together?” I stood and pointed toward the stairs. “I mean, it’s just up there.”

He raised both eyebrows and shot me a goofy grin.“We could, but I prefer to use my private entrance. Remember, I’m VIP, honey. Very Important Pringle.”

“Gag me on my own hairball,” Octo-Cat grumbled. I wouldn’t just owe Pringle after this. I was starting to think my cat would deserve a medal for his restraint in dealing with the obnoxious forest animal.

“Fine,” I said even though I was already beyond irritated. I opened the front door for the raccoon so that he could sashay his way outside, then grabbed a folding chair from the storage closet and marched upstairs to the guest room where I’d found Nan Marie Kondo-ing the other day.

“Let me help you,” I told the tabby in light of the nasty spill he’d taken last time we were up here.

“Don’t insult me.” He jumped onto the chair, wiggled his butt, and leaped through the hatch flawlessly.

I followed shortly after, also using the chair to help me gain an adequate amount of leverage before pulling myself up by my throbbing arms.

Once I was seated securely on the attic floor, I glanced around the space, surprised by the high ceilings—although I probably shouldn’t have been given the general grandeur of the estate. Even in the rarely visited space, the floors were made of elegant hardwood, and the walls had been decorated in a pretty green, textured wallpaper. One hexagonal window sat within the far wall, casting a steady beam of light into the space.

Pringle was already there waiting for us.“Took you long enough.”

“Show us the hiding place,” I commanded, no longer worried about being courteous with the sarcastic, self-important under-porch dweller. We just needed to get on with business.

He nodded and walked around the edge of the room before stopping in the corner farthest from the window.“Here,” he said, pointing.

I dropped to my knees and pulled at the edge of the wood trim, but it remained firmly wedged in place.

“It’s push, champ. Not pull,” Pringle explained, giving it a swift karate kick. Sure enough, the mahogany trim collapsed to reveal a dark hole.

I gulped down my nerves and reached my hand into the mysterious space.

Nothing.

“I already cleaned it out,” the raccoon revealed. “Nothing left. Not in there at least.”

“Then what are we even doing up here?” Octo-Cat demanded with a huff. It was only then I realized he was pacing the length of the room.

“Look.” Pringle pointed toward a stack of cardboard boxes nearby. “There are some new things here since I last searched.”

“Nan’s Marie Kondo-ing,” I whispered. “She wasn’t just throwing things out. She was hiding them here, too.”

Pringle rubbed his hands together in excitement.“Oooh, fun. Let’s go see what new secrets we can find.”

I opened each of the three boxes and set them side by side on the floor. Pringle immediately dove into the biggest one while I decided to start with the smallest.

“It’s times like this I think it might be nice to have fingers, even though they look so… yuck.” Octo-Cat shuddered at the thought, then stalked over to lie in the sunbeam coming from the window, leaving us to do all the snooping.

The first box I tried held a delicate collection of Christmas ornaments, all lovingly kept. Not one thing even remotely suspicious.

I moved to the next box and found Nan’s favorite summer looks tucked away for safe keeping now that it was getting cold. Also nothing that helped with our search into the hidden past.

“What have you found?” I asked Pringle when I realized he still hadn’t emerged from the giant box.

“Huh? What?” He popped his head over the cardboard flap with a sheepish grin. One of Nan’s silk patterned scarves had been tied over his ears, and several pieces of costume jewelry lay against his furry chest. “Oh, nothing about the case. Just a small part of my P.I. fee.”

Octo-Cat sighed heavily but remained blessedly quiet.

“No, no more stealing,” I hissed, feeling a bit like an animal myself. The more human they became, the less like a person I felt myself. “Put it all back.”

“You’re no fun. You know that?” The dejected raccoon at least followed orders without arguing my instructions any further. He made sad, disparaging noises as he removed each piece of glittering finery.

“Okay, well. That didn’t exactly help anything,” I said once I was sure every last item had been returned to the boxes from which they came.

We each exited through the floor hatch and stood together in the guest room discussing next steps.

“What about Nan’s room?” Octo-Cat suggested. “Should we search there?”

Pringle clapped and did a happy little jump.“Oh, yes, yes, yes. Let’s do that!”

Normally, I’d hate to invade my nan’s privacy, but desperate times and all that… and I was very, very desperate to finally learn the truth that had eluded me since long before I’d even been born. “Let’s give it a try,” I acquiesced.

We marched in a single-file line down the hall toward Nan’s bedroom, but when I reached the door, it was still locked up tight.

“Want me to break in?” Pringle offered, making grippy-grabby gestures with his hands. I wondered, not for the first time, whether I’d be able to find a vet to prescribe my raccoon neighbor a daily dose of Ritalin for his obvious ADHD. Mmm, probably not.

“I shouldn’t have any problem jimmying the lock on the window,” he continued, bouncing on all four legs now.

“No,” I said, feeling both guilty and disappointed in equal measures. “Nan will be back eventually. Let me try to talk to her first. Maybe she’s had enough time to cool down. Maybe tonight she’ll be ready to talk.”

“Hey, now wait just a minute here!” Pringle cried in distress. “Even if that happens, you still owe me my payment. Remember, I’m a legitimate business animal now, and we made an unbreakable deal when you hired me earlier today.”

“That’s it. I’ve had enough,” Octo-Cat said, heading upstairs toward our tower bedroom, and I had to agree with him there. So much time in the raccoon’s company had me feeling like I’d just run three marathons back-to-back… but with my patience instead of my muscles.

“I’ll come get you when we’re ready for the next steps,” I told him as I guided him back outside. As soon as he exited the house, I shut the door tight and took a deep breath.

Oh, Nan. Please put me out of my misery. All you need to do is talk to me, and we can put an end to all of this.

Chapter Thirteen

Despite many fervent prayers sent Heavenward, Nan didn’t talk to me that night. In fact, she didn’t even come back home. How do I know? Because I set up camp in the living room and waited all night, that’s how.

Of course, now I only had more questions than before.

Was she out doing damage control or simply hiding from me to avoid a confrontation? And where had she even gone?

Desperate for answers, I called my mom the next morning.

“Angie, good morning! It’s so good to hear from you!” my mom chirped in such a delighted tone that I instantly knew Nan hadn’t turned up at her place.

I had a choice to make then. I could tell her everything and invite her to help, or I could stay silent.

Even though our relationship had become closer ever since I let her in on my secret ability to communicate with animals, I worried about what this new revelation would do to our relationship. Either she’d known all this time and had also chosen to keep the truth of our lineage hidden from me, or she had no idea and would be shattered by the news.

Frankly, I didn’t like either option.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, my mind made up. “Just calling to say hi on my way to the electronics store. Need anything while I’m out?”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you to offer, but your father and I are fine.” She sounded so happy. I really need to call her more, to invite her over here or swing by her place.

I smiled, hoping she’d be able to hear it in my voice. “Okay, just wanted to be sure. Love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

We hung up and I squeezed the phone in my hand, drawing strength from its warmth. I needed to learn whatever truth Nan was hiding. I owed it to not just myself, but my mom, too.

“What happens next?” Octo-Cat wanted to know then.

“Stay here and keep an eye out for Nan,” I told him, even more determined than before to get to the bottom of this—and fast. “I need to pick up some equipment.”

“Does this mean…?” His eyes grew large as his words trailed away.

“We’re breaking into that room,” I confirmed. “At least you and Pringle are.”

“Well, you know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He crossed his paws daintily, then nodded toward the remote. “Turn the tube on for me, will you?”

I grabbed the remote as requested, but didn’t turn on the TV just yet.

“Let’s get on with it, please, Angela,” my cat groaned.

“One thing first.” I took a deep breath to steady myself, knowing he wouldn’t like what I said next. “I need you to understand that I will not be buying Apple products for our mission today.”

He jumped up onto all four feet, his fur puffed in distress.“What? Why?”

Yes, my cat was a major brand loyalist—Apple, Evian, Fancy Feast, Lenox—the guy had standards and stuck to them.

“Sometimes they don’t have what we need,” I explained gently. “But don’t worry. Pringle’s the one who will be using the new stuff. You don’t have to.”

He sighed and settled back into a comfortable position.“Then it’s all for the best. That raccoon doesn’t deserve i-Anything.”

This made me laugh. Crisis averted.“Right!”

“Now would you, please, turn on the television?” he asked with an irritated flick of his tail.

“Sure, yeah.” I clicked the TV on to the movie channel and their current broadcast of When Harry Met Sally, then blew him a quick kiss before heading toward the door. “I’ll be back.”

“Hasta la vista, baby.” He dropped his voice so it became deep, but nowhere deep enough to deliver that famous quote properly. Luckily, I was able to keep my giggles inside until I’d slammed the car door behind me and began the trek to the big box electronics store.

Last time I’d stopped by had been to buy a GPS pet tracker for our squirrel friend Maple. I’d come one time before as well; it had been to buy an Apple Watch for Octo-Cat, although for the life of me I couldn’t remember why I needed one or what ever happened to it. I knew Maple’s GPS had ended up buried somewhere in the forest, like one of the manic squirrel’s nuts or half-eaten jars of peanut butter. And, yes, I was her supplier against my better judgement.

“Hey, I know you!” A pimply faced employee with curly hair and a brightly colored polo shirt approached while laughing. He was the same one who’d helped me the first time I came in looking to equip the animals with their own spy tech.

“How did your cat like his Apple Watch?” He made air quotes around Apple since I’d actually bought an off-brand product and stuck the preferred logo over top. Shoot. Sometimes I was way too free with information about my crazy life.

“It was great. Thanks.” I’d been lucky enough not to run into him on my second visit, which meant I’d gotten in and out of there in mere minutes. It seemed today I wouldn’t be quite so lucky.

“Are you here for a new MacBook Pro or an iPad Air? Maybe a matching Apple Watch for your dog?”

“No, she doesn’t need a watch,” I muttered, and the store clerk laughed even harder. I wasn’t a violent person by nature, but I also kind of wanted to punch him in the face. Did he really think it was a good idea to tease and bully his customers? Perhaps corporate would like to hear about my experience today. Hmm.

He sobered at last, placing both hands in his pockets and turning to me with an open expression. Maybe now that he’d gotten his laughs in, he’d actually help here. “Okay. What can I get for you?”

I offered a pert smile.“I need a GoPro camera, please, and a harness to go with it.”

Again, raucous laughter.“Oh, so your cat likes Apple, but your dog likes GoPro?” He could barely get the words out because he was wheezing so hard.

“Actually, it’s for my raccoon, but yeah.” I smiled wide just to unnerve him. He already thought I was crazy, so I might as well lean into it.

Sure enough, the next thing out of his mouth was,“You’re weird, you know that?”

“And you’re not very helpful, so I guess I’ll just help myself. Thank you!” I called over my shoulder, already walking away.

“Hang on. GoPros are this way.” He darted past me and hooked a right. “You need a key to get into the case, which means you do need my help.”

“Fine, but I’m in a hurry.”

“Urgent animal business?” he guessed, holding back another laugh.

“Something like that,” I answered. Fine, whatever. He could make fun of me all he wanted. As long as I got the camera and harness, I’d go about my day just fine.

“Good luck!” he called after me once he’d handed over the equipment I requested. Yeah, like I needed his well wishes—or like he even meant them in the first place. Next time I’d be finding a different electronics store, even if I had to drive twice as far to get to it.

I gave the bully clerk a thumbs up as I approached the cash register, refusing to look back or say another word. I had far bigger problems to worry about today.

Nan was missing.

My mom probably had different parents than she’d been led to believe.

I owed a raccoon of questionable ethics an unspoken favor.

Oh, and also, I was about to spy on my own grandmother in a desperate attempt to learn the truth behind it all…

Chapter Fourteen

Apparently, my trip to the electronics store had gone by much more quickly than it felt. When I arrived home, Octo-Cat sat watching the final scene of his movie and sniffling mightily.

“Aww, does somebody love love?” I teased. He never reacted this way to Law& Order.

“Of course, not!” he cried, wiping at his eyes to hide the telltale signs of tears. “I’m laughing. Yeah. Still laughing. I’ll have what she’s having. Classic!”

“Uh-huh,” I said, keeping my smile on the inside. Although I knew for a fact he had no idea what that famous scene actually referenced, I decided to let him off the hook this time. The last thing I needed was to have the birds and bees talk with my neutered cat. Nope, no thank you!

Instead, I focused on unpackaging and setting up the new GoPro while Harry danced with Sally at the New Year’s Eve party and told her all the things he loved best about her. So super sweet. Okay, maybe now I was tearing up a little, too.

When the end credits finally rolled, I switched off the television and opened the front door.“C’mon, Pringle. It’s time!”

The raccoon came trotting right in, ready to go, as if he’d been standing outside the door waiting this entire time. Perhaps, he had.

Spotting the new tech in my hands, he gasped and lifted both hands to his mouth, then dropped them and shouted,“Oooh, shiny!”

He then wrapped both hands around my calf and shimmied right up my body and onto my shoulder. He’d never done that before, and I didn’t want him to be doing it now. Even though we were working together, I still didn’t exactly trust him.

Luckily, I overcame my shock just in time to stop him from stealing the camera out of my hands and making a fast getaway with the clearly coveted device.

“Stop that,” I groused and shook my arms. “Get off of me.”

“I want that,” Pringle informed me, refusing to be shaken off.

“Relax, will you? I bought it for you to use in today’s mission.”

“Give! Give! Give!” He climbed back to the floor, then jumped up and down, becoming increasingly annoying by the second.

“You need to give it a rest,” Octo-Cat intervened. “Let Angela do her little speech first, then she’ll give it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m predictable?” I asked with a chuckle. I’m not exactly sure why I laughed in that moment, but it probably had to do with how relieved I was to have the giant raccoon back on the floor and off my body.

“It’s not just you, honey,” Pringle said. “It’s all humans. Such simple creatures.” He made a rolling gesture with his hands and sighed. “Anyway, just get on with it.”

Oh, this was rich. Mr. Must Maintain His Schedule to the Very Second and Mr. Steal Everything in Sight found me to be the predictable one.

Also, was Pringle really mocking me when I’d hired him and also agreed to pay an unnamed favor? That wasn’t very good customer service. He was lucky his business wasn’t on Yelp, or he’d be getting a very bad review.

“Haven’t you ever heard that the customer’s always right?” I asked with a snort.

“Nope. Who would say that?” Pringle chittered with unabashed glee. “The customer’s often stupid, which is why they need to hire help to begin with.”

Yikes. Yet another astute comment on humanity from the Peeping Tom raccoon. Thank goodness he couldn’t communicate with any humans other than me.

But really, we needed to get on with our mission here, which meant it was time for me to lay down the law.“Hush up and listen already!” I yelled at them both.

When they both fell silent, I continued.“Now, Octo-Cat, you’re going to like this next part.”

I lifted my phone from the table and unlocked it to show the new app I’d downloaded during setup. “Pringle’s going to wear the camera in a chest harness, and I’m going to stream the live feed to my iPhone so I can keep an eye on what’s happening.”

“Okay, but where do I fit into this plan?” my cat asked with an aggravated twitch.

“Two places.” I made a peace sign and wiggled those two fingers, unsure whether either animal could count, but whatever. “First, you’re going to go with Pringle to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t take anything that’s unrelated to our case.”

“Hey,” the raccoon whined. “I resemble that remark.”

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes I really missed working at the law firm with other humans—sweet, rational humans. “Second, we’re going to use your iPad to FaceTime so you can give me a running commentary to go with the video feed. I’d give you my phone, but I think the buttons would be too tiny to answer with your paws, and I don’t want to take any chances, so—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Octo-Cat slurred, his eyes growing large and greedy. “Are you going to use your iPad or your iPhone to keep tabs on us?”

“Both,” I said with a smile.

“It’s like Christmas and my birthday and Halloween all rolled into one,” he gushed in that accented tone of his.

I nodded vigorously and reached out to pat him on the head.“Yup. Fun, right? We’re all having fun? Yes? Now, Pringle, if you’re ready, I can outfit you in the harness now.”

The raccoon grabbed the camera and turned it over several times in his hands, then gave me an exaggerated wink.“This is some next-level spy stuff. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just full of surprises. And as it turns out, so is Nan. Do you both understand the mission?” I asked as I held the harness up to Pringle’s upper body to get a read on how tight I’d need to make the straps.

The cat and raccoon nodded in unison.

“Octo-Cat, where’s your iPad?” I asked as I finished fastening the harness around Pringle’s chest, then mounted the camera on his back and tested the feed on my phone.

“Dining room table,” the tabby answered and then went with me to retrieve it. “Say, why aren’t you going in there with us?”

“It just feels like too big an invasion of privacy,” I admitted.

“But you’re still going to see everything through the feed, so how is that different?” Octo-Cat deadpanned.

I shrugged.“I don’t know. It just is.”

Thankfully, he dropped it without playing twenty questions as to my motive.“Fair enough.”

“Thanks for understanding.” I opened the door that led outside again.

“Okay, Pringle, do your thing. Get on the roof, unlock the window, and then come back down to grab the iPad. I’ll leave it right here for you,” I said, setting it on the edge of the porch.

“Octo-Cat, come with me.” He followed me upstairs to our library office, and I opened the large bay window so he could slink onto the roof.

“I’ll wait five minutes to give you two time to get into the room, then I’ll call you on FaceTime,” I called after him. “Make sure you answer.”

“Roger that,” my cat said, turning to glance at me over his shoulder and offering an agreeable smile before disappearing from sight.

This was it. Either we’d soon find some of the answers I’d been searching for… or we’d be nearly out of places we could look.

Unfortunately, if the animals didn’t turn up anything in their search, I had no idea what we’d do next. It was looking more and more like I’d need to choose to let it go or force a confrontation with Nan.

Yay, me.

Chapter Fifteen

I headed outside to the front porch, both because I knew it would offer me better reception and so that I could keep an eye out for Nan just in case she finally decided to return home and face the situation head-on.

After settling myself on the steps, I took out my phone and studied the feed from our Pringle cam. I could see his focused expression reflected back in the glass as he fiddled with the window. His eyes lit up a few moments later as he raised the window high enough for Octo-Cat to squeeze through, then turned back the other way, providing me with an impressive aerial view of the forest that flanked our yard.

Fast as a shot, he appeared at my side and grabbed Octo-Cat’s iPad from the stoop. “I’ll be taking that now. Thank you very much.”

For all his issues, the raccoon really was a great accomplice with an impressive skill set. It was also far easier on my conscience to let him do the dirty work so that I wouldn’t have to.

Pringle, of course, had no trouble bending the rules of propriety or in scaling the house with the tablet tucked into his chest and held in place by one furry black hand. Hardly a minute later, he’d made it back to Nan’s window, raised it a bit higher, and entered the locked bedroom without even a second’s hesitation.

This was it. We were really doing it. I grabbed my iPad and placed a FaceTime call to Octo-Cat.

He answered after a few rings, his face leaning over the device and showing me the same view of kitty double chin I got any morning I dared try to sleep in past his breakfast time.“Badges. We don’t need no stinking badges,” he informed me needlessly.

And what was with all these movie quotes? Did he even sleep anymore or just fill his brain with anything that would fit inside?

“Good job,” I told him, finding his enthusiasm adorable despite everything. “Keep an eye on Pringle, and keep me informed as you two search the room.”

“Yes, Angela. I remember my role in all this,” he murmured, already moving out of view.

Pringle had already made his way to Nan’s dresser and was pulling open drawers willy-nilly. “Lacy underwear!” he cried with a giggle. “Oh, Nan, I had no idea!”

“Cut that out!” I shouted so loud they could probably hear me without the FaceTime connection. “You’re there to look for clues, and that’s it.”

“Open this for me,” I heard Octo-Cat say and then watched as Pringle approached the spot where my cat waited by the nightstand.

The raccoon pulled the drawer clear off the tracks and laughed as it clattered to the floor.“This is fun!” he squealed.

Well, there would be no hiding the fact we’d been in her room, even though I technically hadn’t.

“Hey, look! I found a piece of paper with writing on it!” my cat cried in excitement.

Pringle bounded over and grabbed the paper, but I couldn’t make out the words on the camera as the raccoon read. “It’s just an old shopping list,” he said, balling it up and tossing it back in the drawer. I sure hoped his assessment was right and he hadn’t just discarded an important piece of the puzzle.

Maybe I should just go up there and instruct the two of them on how they could unlock the door from inside. Still, I remained frozen in place, unable to cross that invisible boundary.

“Be respectful of my nan’s things!” I cried in a half-hearted attempt to exert some control over the situation.

“Why?” Pringle asked in a distracted voice as he continued to lope around the bedroom. “Think about it. Was she respectful of you when she hid such an important truth just out of reach?”

Darn him and his logical points.

“Still,” I muttered. “Just, please.”

“You heard the lady!” Octo-Cat growled. “Keep it professional here.”

Oh, how I loved my kitty. He was definitely the next best thing to being there myself, and I was proud of him for staying on task.

The fuzzy duo searched around the room a while longer, finding nothing of consequence.

“If she’s hiding anything, it wouldn’t be in an obvious place,” I said, trying to help from my station outside the action. “The attic hiding place was pretty cleverly tucked away. Maybe there’s a similar hiding place in her room, too.”

“Good thinking,” Pringle said and then lumbered over to the nearest baseboard. He kicked and punched to no avail; not a single board budged.

“Hey! I think I found something!” Octo-Cat shouted from across the room. Oh my gosh. Was this it? The moment of truth?

“Coming!” Pringle called. The camera bounced unevenly as he raced toward Octo-Cat, who sat on top of the dresser—the first place they’d searched.

At that very same moment, the hum of an engine alerted me to the little red sports car pulling up our driveway.

Nan had come home.

“Mommy, I’m back!” Paisley cried from the open window, and while I was happy to see her, this meant that I had zero time to send a warning message to the guys upstairs.

“Paisley! Nan! Welcome home!” I shouted while closing the video feed and ending the FaceTime call. I hoped the animals engaged in the spy operation upstairs had heard and understood that they needed to get the heck out of there. Subtlety wasn’t exactly a strong suit for either of them.

Nan pulled into the garage, and I raced after her before she could run away from me again. Maybe she was finally ready to give me some answers. At the very least, I might be able to distract her long enough to buy some time for Octo-Cat and Pringle to escape.

“I missed you!” Paisley bounded out of the car and ran over to me, begging to be picked up.

I was all too happy to oblige.“I missed you, too. Both of you.”

Nan looked as if she hadn’t slept the whole time she’d been gone. Perhaps she hadn’t. Still, she attempted a reserved smile. Of course, the Nan I knew had never been reserved a day in her life. What had happened to her, and why was it all coming to a head now?

“Are you okay?” I asked gently.

She shook her head.“Not really. No.”

“Can we talk about it?” I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook me off.

Nan took a deep breath, then retreated into herself. I’d never seen her look so old or broken, and it worried me greatly. Tears rimmed her red eyes. “I never thought I’d have to speak of it again, especially not to you.”

“I’m here, and I love you, no matter what.”

She shook her head sadly.“It will change things, Angie.”

“It already has,” I whispered as I attempted to hold back fresh tears of my own.

Nan looked away and murmured,“I can’t.” Then brushed past me into the house.

Guilt surged inside my chest. Maybe this was one mystery that didn’t need to be solved. Maybe I just needed to leave it alone and move on with my life the way things had been before Pringle showed me that secret letter.

I wished I could turn away, but I was already in too deep. This wasn’t a simple curiosity; it was my life.

And I needed to know the truth.

Chapter Sixteen

After Nan abandoned me in the garage, I went back to sit on the porch. Lately, I’d been spending more time out here than inside the house, it seemed.

Paisley ambled after me, wagging her tail as usual, but slowly, cautiously.“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Although she couldn’t communicate with Nan like she did me, I still felt uncomfortable saying anything bad about her best friend, the woman who had rescued her from the overcrowded shelter and given her a home.

Where was Nan now? Had she made it to her room? Had she spotted the mess made by the animals and known I was the one to put them up to it? Would she ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive her?

“I just feel sad,” I told the sympathetic Chihuahua at last.

“Sometimes I get sad,” the little dog said, snuggling onto my lap. “But then you know what I do? I decide to stop being sad and just be happy instead.”

I smiled and scratched her between the ears.“That’s very smart, Paisley. Hey, did you and Nan have a nice adventure?”

I was more looking for a change of topic than any additional dirt on Nan, but then it occurred to me that if I asked the right questions, Paisley might be able to crack this case wide open. She was with Nan practically every waking hour—slept in her room, too. How much did she pay attention? How much did she know?

She closed her eyes and rolled over on my lap to expose her belly for scratches.“The car ride was great, and I liked smelling the new smells, but I would have rather been home, all of us together.”

“Aww, I know how you feel. Where did the two of you go?” I asked, unable to resist.

She squinted one eye open.“I’m not sure. It was a small clean room with a big bed. Nan and I cuddled and slept a lot. We also watched TV quite a bit. I know Octavius likes it, but I think it’s pretty boring just watching things happen in a small glass box. I’d much rather be doing them myself.”

“Yet another smart observation,” I said with a sad smile. It sounded like Nan had holed up in some kind of a motel rather than talk to me. Fabulous.

I sighed and continued to stroke the happy little dog. She trusted so easily, so completely. Why couldn’t I be like that? I had no doubt she was the most contented among us, and it wasn’t because ignorance was bliss. Paisley was incredibly smart, yet somehow still able to push all her problems to the side and choose happiness each and every day.

We sat like that for a while until Pringle appeared from the side yard and bolted up the steps, which immediately sent Paisley barking.

She bounded off my lap and stood guard beside me, shouting,“Mommy! Mommy! The big bad raccoon is back!”

The raccoon groaned and shook his head.“Are we really going to do this every time? Every single time?” he asked me with an exhausted huff.

“It’s okay, Paisley.” I picked her back up and set her on my lap.

She whined but stayed in place.

Pringle came closer, something small and rectangular clutched in one hand.

“What did you find, Pringle?”

The pet door beeped, and Octo-Cat stepped out to join us.“What a thrill!” he exclaimed. “I really thought we were going to be caught there for a second.”

Pringle put an arm around the tabby and smiled.“Stick with me, kid. Every day’s an adventure.”

Both laughed.

Crud. For the sake of this case, it was nice that they’d managed to put their differences aside, but going forward? Pringle wasn’t exactly the best influence on my somewhat sweet, somewhat bitter tabby cat.

“Can I see what you have there?” I asked again, reaching out my hand.

“Certainly.” The raccoon placed an old photograph in my hand. I immediately recognized a much younger Nan but didn’t know the man who stood at her side with a cheesy grin and two deep dimples to match.

“We found it tucked into the corner of the mirror. Right out in the open,” Octo-Cat informed me, a self-satisfied smile stretching between his whiskers.

“Go ahead. Flip it over,” Pringle urged.

“Dorothy and William, summer 1968,” I read aloud and gasped. “William? That’s him?”

Pringle nodded and shrugged.“Seems so.”

Right out in the open, just as Octo-Cat had said. I probably could have discovered this picture a dozen times if I’d ever stopped to study the collage of keepsakes she kept tucked into the edges of the mirror that hung above her dresser.

“They’re holding hands,” Octo-Cat pointed out. “Like you and UpChuck do all the time.”

“She seems smitten,” I said breathlessly as I noticed the way her eyes shone, the coy smile that played at her lips as she stared at him dreamily. “Like she loved him.”

“Sad to say, doesn’t look like he feels the same way,” Pringle pointed out, and he was right about that, too. William stood stiff, his eyes focused in the distance rather than at my lovesick nan.

Octo-Cat traipsed over and sat down beside me.“He’s right. When you’re with UpChuck, you look just like that.” He touched his nose down onto the portrait of Nan. “But so does he. This guy looks happy, but not in love. Not like you and UpChuck or Baby and Johnny. Not even like Harry and Sally, and we all know what a mess their relationship was in the beginning.”

“Who are Harry and Sally?” Paisley asked, giving her friend a lick hello.

Octo-Cat rolled his eyes lovingly.“Yeesh. I have a lot to catch you up on, dog,” he said as if the events of his movie marathoning were an actual part of real life. Crazy cat.

I glanced back down at the photo and frowned.

Was Nan hiding a broken heart? A sad tale of unrequited love? It still didn’t explain the letter or the birth certificate. Had William used his hold on her emotions to make her do something awful?

“Poor Nan,” I whispered.

Paisley whined, even though I wasn’t sure she knew why we were sad in that moment.

The other two said nothing.

We sat like that for a while as I considered my next move. The animals had been a huge help so far, but I needed a second opinion—a human opinion.

“I’m calling Charles,” I informed them. Yes, Charles. He wasn’t just the love of my life; he was also the smartest and most hardworking person I knew. He didn’t become the youngest law firm partner in Blueberry Bay history by phoning it in.

I was afraid I’d reached a dead end, but maybe he’d be able to shed some new light on these old secrets from the past.

At the very least, he could give me the hug I so desperately needed to give me the strength to keep going.

Chapter Seventeen

Charles came home from work early so we could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening going over everything I’d learned during the past couple of days.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” he said now that we were cuddled together on his stiff, modular couch. “Has Nan opened up to you about any of this yet?”

I hadn’t felt like catching him up on the phone, preferring instead to talk in person. Besides, I knew he’d be distracted until he was able to get away from the office. “Nothing. And according to Paisley, they spent that time away from home in a motel.”

“A motel? But Nan has plenty of friends. Why didn’t she stay with one of them?” Charles hadn’t known Nan that long, but even he understood how weird this all was.

I burrowed deeper into his arms, safe there even as the rest of my world crumbled around me.“I’m worried about her. She looked so different when she came home today. So empty. Whatever this secret is, it’s weighing heavily on her. I’m honestly not sure whether she’ll ever be ready to talk about it.”

He rubbed reassuring little circles in my shoulder.“Are you okay with that?”

I closed my eyes and thought about it for the millionth time since Pringle handed me that old letter. No matter which way I looked at the situation, my answer always remained the same.“I wish I could be, but no. I need to know.”

Charles nodded.“I understand. If it were me, I’d want to know, too.” Thank goodness for understanding boyfriends. It wasn’t just that he understood, either. He wanted to help.

Remembering our newest puzzle piece suddenly, I pulled the picture of Nan and William from my purse and handed it to him.“The animals found this in her room today.”

He held the old photograph between us, and we both stared down at the faces caught in time.“The mysterious William, I presume?”

I nodded.“Pringle and Octo-Cat found it in her room.”

He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to my temple.“Those two.”

“Yeah.” I smiled, but only a little.

Charles sat up straighter.“Those two,” he said with more vigor this time. “They’re quite the duo. Why don’t you bring them here?”

I looked up at him with unblinking eyes, not quite understanding what he wanted—or why he’d invite the trouble-making raccoon into his abode.

He stood and pulled me to my feet with both hands.“Before I bought this house, it belonged to Nan, and for more than thirty years at that. What if there are still some old secrets hidden inside?”

The last little flickering bit of hope burned brighter.“Charles, that’s a great idea.”

“Thank me later. Right now, let’s get the rest of our search team and inform them of the plan.”

We drove back to my place together and gathered the cat and raccoon for the journey. Octo-Cat was less than enthused, but Pringle whooped with joy to learn he’d be accompanying us on an off-property adventure—no stowing away required.

“This is where I grew up,” I told him once we’d arrived.

He scrunched up his nose as if something smelled bad.“You and Charles grew up in the same house together? Isn’t that a little…?”

When I explained this to my boyfriend, he laughed.“I live here now, but until a couple years ago I lived in California. That’s where I grew up, and it’s just about as far away as you can get and stay in the same country.”

Octo-Cat patrolled the room; his nose also twitched in disgust.“I wish I could say I like what he’s done with the place, but that would be a lie.”

“What’s he saying?” Charles asked me.

A wicked smile crept across my face.“That he wants to say hi to his old friends Jacques and Jillianne,” I said, referencing Charles’s two hairless cats. They’d been crucial to a previous murder investigation, which meant we had spent plenty of time in their company. Octo-Cat found them creepy and tiresome, though, especially since they only spoke in rhymes and riddles.

“That was uncalled for,” my cat hissed, then slinked off to hide beneath the dining room table. Although he was still in clear view, I decided to leave him alone. As he’d pointed out earlier, it was hard to search without fingers and opposable thumbs. I didn’t want to force him only for himto be frustrated and mopey the rest of the night. He’d help if he wanted to.

“Well, unless we can get the cats on board, that leaves three of us for the search,” I summed up for Charles. “Are you ready, Pringle?”

He rubbed his hands together and leaned forward.“Oh, yeah, baby. I’m off to find the attic. See you kids later.”

We both watched him scamper away.“You do know there’s a pretty good chance he’ll steal from you, right?”

Charles shrugged.“Small price to pay if it helps.”

“So where do we start?” I asked. Even though I’d grown up here, this was his place now and I worked hard to respect that.

“When I moved in, there were still a couple of boxes tucked away in the garage. I say we start there.”

I nodded and followed him out of the house.

“How are you taking this all?” he asked once we had the boxes pulled out and opened in front of us.

“Not well,” I admitted with a sigh, growing increasingly frustrated as I rummaged through the various gardening supplies that filled the boxes.

“This is hopeless,” I whined and sunk to the garage floor in a crouch. “Nan kept this secret for almost fifty years. Why do I think I have any chance of solving it now?”

Charles bent over me and forced my chin up so that we could look into each other’s eyes. “Because you’re Angie freaking Russo, that’s why. You’re the smartest, the prettiest, the best, and you’ve got this.”

My heart soared.“Charles, you’re—wait!”

His eyes crinkled around the corners with curiosity as he studied me.

“Turn around and look up. Look there!” I cried and pointed toward the rafters above. There, a dusty old box sat tucked into the corner. The aged cardboard had faded to the color of the wooden planks that held it aloft, making it almost impossible to spot unless you knew what you were looking for. Well, I’d seen it, and something told me it held important information.

“I’ll get the ladder,” Charles said, popping to his feet. “You spot me while I climb.”

With a bit of fancy maneuvering, we were able to hoist the box from its hiding place and wrestle it to the garage floor. Inside, we found the jackpot of memorabilia—an old letter jacket, school projects, a collection of homemade clay sculptures, and a photo album.

“Bingo,” I said on the wings of a happy sigh, wasting no time before I began flipping through the pages. I recognized pictures of my great grandparents and of little Nan. Normally, seeing these new family memories would give me special warm fuzzies, but we were on a mission here.

“Wait, look there!” Charles cried, slamming his index finger on the page before I could turn it again. He’d pointed to a young man wearing a light-colored suit and standing before a church sign that proclaimed:

Easter Services

This Sunday

8 AM 10 AM 6 PM

“Look familiar?” Charles asked, lifting his finger and pointing again in excitement.

I strained harder as I eyed the picture, finally noticing the dimples that lined either side of the man’s smile. The rest fell into place shortly after that. “It’s William McAllister.”

“And look at the sign,” he urged me.

When I read the service times aloud, he shook his head and pointed higher.“The name of the church, there.” More pointing.

“Faith Baptist Church, Larkhaven, GA. Est. 1903,” I read. “Do you think the church is still there? That they would have information on William or his heirs?”

Charles’s smile widened. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Chapter Eighteen

My hands shook as I punched in the number Charles and I had found on the church website. Sure enough, it was still standing, still serving the small community of Larkhaven, Georgia.

But would the people who worshipped there now remember my nan and her William from all those years ago?

Part of me hoped they would, but another huge part was afraid of what they might reveal. William’s letter had hinted at trouble. Did I want to know if he and Nan had been engaged in some kind of nefarious doings? Or what if Nan was innocent in all this, but William had hurt her? What if she just wanted to forget, but I was forcing all those terrible memories to the surface?

Charles sat so close to me that our legs touched from hip to knee.“You can do this. Deep breaths.”

“It’s the moment of truth,” Octo-Cat said sagely from across the room. He’d found a sunbeam filtering in from between the slatted blinds, and now he and Charles’s Sphynx cats lay sunning themselves like tiny sea lions on a thin outcropping of rocks.

“Also, you can do this,” Octo-Cat added with a supportive purr.

Pringle still hadn’t returned from his investigation of the attic, but I had all the support I needed to take this next step. The only thing holding me back was my own fear.

And I’d faced down murderers before and lived to tell the tale. How could this be anywhere near that bad?

Just one little phone call…

I finished entering the number and put my cell phone on speaker.

“First Baptist of Larkhaven,” a woman with a perky drawl answered. She seemed nice, like she’d want to help.

“Hello?” she repeated when I didn’t immediately jump to explain myself.

“Oh, hi. My name’s Angie, and I’m doing some research on my family. I was wondering if you might be able to help me?” I bit my lip and waited.

“I’m here for another few hours today. Would you like to stop in for a chat?” the woman said.

Charles squeezed my knee and mouthed,“You’ve got this.”

I kept my eyes on him as I spoke to the lady on the other end of the line.“Actually, I live out of state and—well, it’s kind of a complicated situation, but I was wondering if maybe you knew a man named William McAllister? He attended your church in the late sixties, and I think he’s my long-lost grandpa.”

“Oh, dear.” She took a deep breath, and my heart sped to a nervous gallop. “That was before my time. Sad to say I never knew a William.”

Another dead end. Shoot.

“Okay, thank you for your ti—”

Apparently, she wasn’t done speaking yet, though.

“But the McAllisters still attend services every Sunday,” the woman continued. “Would you like a phone number for them?”

Charles gave me a thumbs up and bobbed his head enthusiastically. He smiled wide, and I couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Y-y-yes.” I stumbled over the short word, one that should have been easy but was impossibly difficult. “Please.”

“You’ve got it, sugar. Just a second.” The friendly secretary returned a couple minutes later and rattled off a number.

Charles typed it into a note on his phone while she read.

“That’s for a Miss Linda McAllister,” the church receptionist continued. “She’s the oldest of the bunch so the one who’s most likely to remember your grandfather. Good luck!”

“Thank you. You’ve been incredibly helpful,” I said as new tears began to form in the corners of my eyes.

We said our goodbyes, and I sat silently holding my phone and crying huge, relieved tears while Charles placed a supportive arm around my shoulders.

“Are you going to call her?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, biting my lip again. “I’d rather Nan tell me than me having to find out from somebody else.”

“Maybe. But she’s not making a peep,” Pringle said, returning with an overloaded armful of booty from Charles’s attic. “And don’t you think you deserve to know the truth about your own life?”

“What’s he saying?” Charles asked, eyeing the raccoon with trepidation.

“That we should call,” I said simply. Leave it to Pringle to want to learn whatever secrets he could, even if it stirred up drama.

Charles nodded and looked back toward me.“And what does Octo-Cat think?”

My cat stretched in the sun, blinking slowly.“Octo-Cat thinks Angela is smart enough to make her own decisions.” It was one of the nicest things he’d ever said to me.

“He says it’s my decision,” I translated with a smile.

“And so it is. What about Jacques and Jillianne? What do they say?” Charles asked next. I knew exactly what he was doing, and I loved him for it. He was giving me the time to make the decision for myself, proving that there was no wrong call here.

The two Sphynx cats, however, had been strangely quiet this whole time. Even now Octo-Cat spoke for them.

“This whole thing is already a riddle, so they don’t have anything to add. They’re kind of nice when they shut up, aren’t they? Good nap buddies.” He yawned and rolled onto his back.

I laughed.“They have no opinion, “I told Charles.

He laughed, too, and squeezed my hand.“And here I always assumed they were these great intellectuals.”

“What do you think?” I asked, turning into him.

“This time I agree with the cat. Your cat. Only you know the right course of action.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, and for a little while, I found myself lost in loving surrender.

“I can’t believe he’s copying my line, using my words to do… well, that,” Octo-Cat said with a shudder. “Well, J and J. It’s been swell,” he said to the two hairless cats on his way out of the living room. “But that’s my cue to go.”

“Let me guess,” Charles said with a laugh. “He thinks we’re disgusting and doesn’t want to be around us anymore.”

“Yup, but at least he didn’t call you UpChuck this time. That’s real progress.” I sighed happily. No matter what happened next, I’d still have Charles, Octo-Cat, my mom, dad, and even Nan. Nothing had to change. I could choose what to do with the information once I had it. This was still my life, and I could live it how I wanted.

Charles kissed the part in my hair, then rested his cheek on my head. His voice rumbled through me as he said,“Well, what will it be, Angie?”

I took a deep breath, sat up straight, and placed the one call I knew I needed to make to get my life back on track.

This was my decision, and I was ready to deal with whatever consequences came with it.

Here goes nothing.

Chapter Nineteen

Several hours later, I sat on my front porch with a fresh mug of tea warming my hands against the chilly night air. I leaned back against the side railing with both legs stretched out before me. Paisley sat snuggled in my lap while Octo-Cat lay snoozing at my side. Pringle had already absconded into his private apartment with the new treasures Charles had allowed him to steal from his attic, and my boyfriend had gone home so that I could have this moment to myself.

“Thanks for agreeing to talk with me,” I said to the elderly woman who sat on the nearby rocking chair, holding a full cup of tea in her hands as well.

“Of course, dear,” she answered with a far-off smile that seemed to take almost all the energy she had. “I should have spoken with you about this much earlier.”

I turned the mug in my hands, searching for the right words to move this conversation forward. It seemed an apology was the best place to start.“I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum, but—”

“Say no more.” Her voice was soft and reassuring. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to that point. Thank you for giving me the chance to explain for myself first.”

“Nan, you know that no matter what happened back then, it doesn’t erase all the amazing years we’ve had together. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re the person I love most in this entire world. You’re my best friend.”

Octo-Cat stirred in his sleep, just enough to grumble a protest.

“Well, you and Octo-Cat,” I amended with a chuckle.

“Show me what you found,” she said without further delay. I knew this was hard for her, but I was so appreciative she was facing that discomfort to give me the answers I craved.

Instead of calling the number the church lady had given me, I’d decided to call my nan and come clean, to tell her I’d been searching for answers and may have found some but would much rather talk to her first if she was willing.

She’d asked for a few hours to gather her bearings but said we could talk that night. And now here we were.

“You’ve already seen the letter and birth certificate. Pringle took those back. But we also have these two pictures.” I set my tea to the side and rose carefully, holding Paisley as I stood.

“Ahh, William,” Nan said, memories sparkling in her light eyes. But did they spark joy? I couldn’t quite tell.

“Who was he to you?” I asked, still so confused by all I knew, all I still didn’t know.

She touched the photo of his face with trembling fingers.“He was my best friend growing up. We did everything together. Almost like a brother and sister, until we hit puberty, and then suddenly our relationship felt very different.”

“You fell in love,” I finished for her.

“I did,” she admitted with a sad shake of her head. “And for a while I thought he loved me, too, but then Marilyn Jones came along.”

“The name on the birth certificate.” I remembered that first night standing out here by myself as I read the shocking contents of his letter, saw my mom’s real birth certificate for the first time.

She nodded.“Your real nan.”

“I don’t understand. What happened?” I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, urging her on. There was still so much more that hadn’t been said.

“I don’t know what happened to Marilyn, only that William said she was gone, and he was going back to war. He was worried about his daughter, about Laura, your mother. And he was right to worry because he died in battle later that year.”

Tears pricked at my eyes for the friend Nan had lost, for the grandfather I’d never gotten the chance to know. “Oh, Nan, I’m so sorry.”

She sniffed and smiled up at me.“By then, I’d met and fallen for your grandfather. We legally adopted your mother and raised her as our own, always fearing that Marilyn would come calling and take our daughter away. For years, we looked over our shoulders. Not hiding, since I was in the public spotlight given my choice of work, but always watching.”

“And then what happened?”

She shook hard, and I knew that we’d reached the hardest part of the story. This was the part of the memory she’d tried so hard to forget.

“When your mother was eleven, Marilyn found us. She came to one of my shows and confronted me after. Said William’s sister had told her what he’d done and that she wanted her baby back.” Tears splashed into her tea, but she wasn’t drinking it, anyway.

I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn’t move. What had almost happened? How different would my mom’s life be if…? And would I have even been born?

“Oh my gosh, all those years later? What did you do?” I couldn’t stand another moment not knowing.

“I agreed to meet her the next day, to bring Laura.” Her voice cracked here. “And then your grandfather and I packed up and left town.”

“To Blueberry Bay,” I whispered.

“To Blueberry Bay,” she confirmed.

“What happened to Marilyn?”

Nan shook her head vigorously. Her tea sloshed over the edges of her cup, but she didn’t react. “I don’t know. We walked away from everything so that we could keep our family together. Your mother hadn’t been born to us, but she was ours. And I didn’t know why William sent his only daughter away, but I knew him and knew he must have had his reasons.”

“Wow.” I breathed heavily, still in shock. “Does Mom know about all this?”

“Of course not.” Nan’s voice faltered in a rare show of fragility. “How can I tell her that I stole her?”

And just like that my legs worked again. I pulled my nan to her feet and hugged her tight.“You didn’t know. Your best friend gave her to you, and you trusted him.”

“Back then, yes,” she whispered into my hair. “But I made a choice when Marilyn found us in New York. A selfish one that’s kept Laura from knowing her real mother and you from knowing your real nan.”

“You’re my real nan,” I said, wrapping my arms around her even tighter. “I told you nothing can change that. Not even this.”

“I appreciate that, dear.” She pulled back and studied me with a small smile and bright eyes. “Sometimes I think I let myself fall even more in love with you than I allowed myself to love your mother because I knew no one would show up and try to take you away.”

This explained so much, why she had been the main one to raise me even though my parents were here and capable. Whatever the reasons for it, I’d loved my childhood and I loved my life. I loved the woman who had risked so much to give it to me.

I kissed her on the cheek.“I’ve loved every single day with you, Nan. Well, every day except for the one you took Paisley to a motel and hid from me.”

We smiled at each other, then laughed together for what felt like the first time in ages.

“You don’t hate me?” she asked with a squeak.

“I could never hate you.” I paused before saying the next part in case it hurt her. “But I do want to meet her.”

Nan nodded.“I figured you might.”

“Where do we start?” I needed to know more, but I also needed us to do this side by side.

“Together.” She reached out her hand and grasped mine. “I’ve spent so many years running from the truth. Now let’s walk toward it together.”

Chapter Twenty

A lot happened rather quickly after that.

Nan showed me all the old photos and mementos she’d kept hidden for fear of exposing her secret history growing up in Georgia and falling in unrequited love with her best friend. I still didn’t know why William had decided to entrust his baby to Nan when her mother was still very much alive. I think the only person who might know the answer to that was Ms. Marilyn Jones herself, but we had no idea where to start looking for her—or even if she was still alive all these years later.

Pringle took full credit for solving the case and decided his fee should be doubled for just how fast“he” had managed to solve the mystery. He also demanded that his payment be delivered within three days or it would need to be doubled again.

That payment? A new home, since we had irreparably damaged his under-porch apartment with our shovels. And because he had decided to ask for double, he also demanded that we erect new office headquarters for Pringle Whisperer, P.I.

Luckily, we knew the very best handyman in all of Blueberry Bay, a certain Mr. Brock“Cal” Calhoun. Not only did he do fast, quality work, but he also didn’t ask too many questions—like why a single woman and her grandmother needed not one, but two, tree forts erected in their backyard or why one of those forts also needed to be outfitted with electricity and a satellite TVdish.

Once Cal had finished building the twin tree forts and Pringle was all moved in, I introduced him to reality TV, the ultimate source of juicy secrets and real human drama—at least that’s what I told him.

Sure enough, he immediately got sucked in to one of the longest running reality competitions of them all, which meant there were plenty of back episodes for him to watch. He enjoyed laughing at the humans and their weak skills when it came to surviving in the wild.

“Survivor!” he quipped somewhere into his umpteenth hour of viewing. “Ha! Put a raccoon in there with them, then you’ll see what a real survivor looks like!”

Pringle had already begun to spend all his time in front of his new TV, which thankfully meant he stayed out of trouble. Well, at least for now.

Brilliantly, Octo-Cat had a fairly easy time convincing the raccoon to join our investigation firm rather than continuing to compete with us.

“Think about it, Pringle,” my cat crooned. “You like secrets. Now your whole job is keeping track of our secrets. In fact, that’s your new job title—Pringle, MSK. Master Secret Keeper.”

“Oooh, that’s even better than P.I.,” he crowed. “It’s got more letters. Better letters!”

Really, all that happened was that we moved our filing cabinets into his rarely used work fort, but at least I knew they were safe there, given the ferocity he used to protect all his favorite treasures.

When Cal had finished building the tree forts, he also fixed the hole in our roof so that no other animals would be able to crawl into our attic. He helped us clear out the space under our porch, too, and then laid down a solid stone base—also to keep the wildlife out. I didn’t mind getting up close and personal with my animal neighbors, but we needed to have at least some boundaries.

Julie, for her part, was incredibly relieved to find that all the missing mail had been accounted for. Her bosses at the post office let her off the hook but made sure to promptly deliver flyers throughout town, warning of highly intelligent and very disturbed forest animals.

Honestly, it made me laugh.

Pringle, too.

When I brought one home to show him, he grabbed it from my hands in delight and then raced around the neighborhood collecting as many as he could for his treasure trove. I had no doubt that he’d eventually turn them all into sloppily constructed origami cranes, provided he stopped watching TV long enough to get to work.

While all this was great, the most important follow-up item still remained. Nan and I needed to reunite the family.

That’s why my mom was here with us now.

Nan had baked all her favorites and encouraged her to dig in while she shared pictures and explained our shared, but until now hidden, past. Pringle had even generously returned the birth certificate and William’s letter to us, so we could show them to her as a way of starting the conversation.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know,” I explained to my mom, who sat stoically, taking it all in. I guess since she was an investigative reporter, she was used to larger-than-life stories like this one. It still couldn’t have made any of this easier.

“I can’t believe it. I have another mother out there,” Mom said with a genuine smile. “What was she like?”

“I didn’t really know her,” Nan explained. “But she was beautiful, just like you.” She bumped my arm. “And you, dear.”

“Can we find her? Can I meet her?” Mom asked with a determined glint in her eyes. She never backed away from a challenge, and that proved true now, too.

“I’m not giving up until we do,” I promised, taking my mom’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “But we have even more family out there, family we haven’t gotten the chance to know yet.”

Nan sucked in a shaky breath, and I offered her a reassuring smile before turning back to my mom and revealing,“I have their phone number. Should we call?”

We caught Mom up on the McAllisters of Larkhaven, Georgia, and the help I’d received from the church receptionist.

“Can we really call them?” Mom asked. “Just like that?”

“Hey, you never know,” I said with a goofy smile. “Maybe they’ve been looking for us, too.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nan said, hugging us both from behind.

“Are you really okay with this?” Mom asked. “It must be so scary for you to go back to that time, that place.”

“I’m not going back,” Nan said with a wistful smile. “Only forward with my two girls.”

Mom nodded, and I punched in the number I’d long since memorized even though this was the first time I was actually placing a call.

It rang three times, and then…

“Hello?” a woman who sounded about Mom’s age answered.

“Is this Linda McAllister?” I asked through happy tears. I already knew what the answer to my question would be. “Because I think we might be related.”

Even though she hadn’t expected our call, we spent over two hours chatting about our lives, growing closer and closer, until there was no doubt in any of our minds that we were, in fact, family.

“So, when are you coming down to Larkhaven to see me?” Linda asked.

“Soon,” I answered with an enormous smile. “Real soon.”

8. HIMALAYAN HAZARD

Chapter One

My name’s Angie Russo, and lately my life has taken one dramatic turn after another. Seriously, where can I even begin?

I guess it all starts with my cat.

Think that sounds boring? Well, think again!

My cat can talk. Only to me, but still.

We met at the law firm where I used to work as a paralegal. I never really loved that job, but I did enjoy having food in my fridge and a roof over my head, so I stayed despite being treated like a glorified secretary and not the shrewd researcher I’d worked so hard to become.

We had a will reading scheduled one morning, and I was called in to make some coffee for the attendees. The machine we had was approximately a million years old and unpredictable even on its best day. This was not one of its best days. All I wanted to do was make the cruddy coffee and get back to work, but—lo and behold—I got electrocuted and knocked unconscious instead.

And when I awoke from that zap, I found a striped cat sitting on my chest and making some pretty mean jokes at my expense. Well, as soon as I realized the voice was coming from him and he realized that I could understand what he said, that cat recruited me to help solve the murder of his late owner.

That’s how I and Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq., P.I. became an item. I’ve since shortened his name to Octo-Cat and have become his official owner—although he’d surely tell you that he’s the one who owns me, and, well… he wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

He came into my life first with a murder mystery and then with a generous trust fund and even more generous list of demands. So now here we are, living in the posh manor house that previously belonged to his late owner, drinking chilled Evian out of Lenox teacups, and operating the area’s best—and only—private investigation firm.

There was a brief upset when a raccoon named Pringle set up a competing business, but we’ve moved past that now. Because, yeah, at first I could only talk to Octo-Cat, but with time, I also gained the ability to communicate with other animals, too.

The regular cast of mammalian characters that make up my life include an eternally optimistic rescue Chihuahua named Paisley, that infamous raccoon racketeer named Pringle—also known as the Master Secret Keeper for our firm—an easily distracted, nut-obsessed squirrel named Maple, and my crazy-daisy, live-in grandmother, Nan.

Frankly, I’d love to add a bird to our merry little gang of forest misfits, but they’re all too frightened to talk to either me or Octo-Cat. Go figure.

And despite our diverse skill set, our P.I. outfit isn’t exactly successful. We’ve only had one case to date, and we weren’t even paid for it. I know it will happen for us eventually if we just stay the course and continue to believe in ourselves…

Um, right?

Well, that’s what Paisley insists, anyway.

Even still, I’ve got this huge new thing in my life that is keeping us plenty busy, with or without work to fill our days. I just discovered that I have a whole big family in Larkhaven, Georgia, that I never even knew existed until a couple weeks ago. And what’s more, they’ve invited me, my mom, and dad to come down for an extended visit so that we can all get to know each other.

Octo-Cat insists on coming, too. He hates long car rides and refuses to even consider getting on a plane, which means we get to take the train. Whoopee.

Sure, it won’t cost very much, but it will take longer than a day of continuous travel to get there. Still, I can’t exactly leave him behind when he was a big part of helping me locate the hidden branch of our family.

Yeah, Nan had kept them hidden from us for my entire life and my mom’s whole life, too. But now that we’ve found them again, there’s no keeping us apart. Nan doesn’t want to join us, even though Mom and I both assured her she’d be welcome. She still feels guilty about what happened.

Maybe we can convince her to join us for the next visit. I hope we can, because even though she kept a major secret from me, she’s still my best friend and my very favorite person in the whole wide world.

That’s why saying goodbye to her right now is so difficult…

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“Promise me you’ll call every single day,” I moaned, hugging my grandmother so tight I had to wonder if she could even breathe.

“Mommy, I’m going to miss you, too!” Paisley, Nan’s five-pound tricolor Chihuahua, cried as she pranced on the platform from the other end of her neon pink leash.

I scooped her up and peppered her adorable little face with kisses.“I’m going to miss you, too,” I cooed in a cutesy, crazy pet lady voice. Talking to the animals like this in public made people think I was weird but kept my secret ability hidden. “Mommy will be back in sixteen days. You can wait sixteen days, can’t you?”

“I don’t know how to count,” Paisley said with a happy bark.

I handed her over to Nan and took Octo-Cat’s cat carrier from my mom so she could get in goodbye hugs, too.

My cat growled during the handoff.“Hey, there’s delicate cargo in here!”

Mom and Nan said a quick goodbye, and then I set Octo-Cat down to hug her again. As pathetic as it might be to admit, I’d never been away from her so long. I’d grown up under her roof and lived with her most of my adult life, too—although now she lived with me rather than the other way around.

Throngs of passengers dragging big wheeled suitcases passed us on either side, and I had to step back to avoid getting hit by a fast-walking woman who was more focused on her phone conversation than where she was going.

“Look,” I told Octo-Cat. “She has a cat carrier, too.”

And she did. Only it was much fancier. I wouldn’t be surprised if the bling adorning the case was actual diamonds—or at least Swarovski crystals.

“Show-off,” my cat muttered, even though I’m pretty sure he’d have loved a decked-out carrier like that to call his own. It didn’t matter that he’d sooner surrender one of his few remaining lives than willingly get inside.

“I’m surprised there are so many people out here,” my dad said, glancing around uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize anyone still took trains when there are so many other options available.”

“It’s romantic,” my mom gushed, leaning into him and possibly squeezing his butt from behind. It seriously grossed me out how in love these two were, even after thirty years of marriage. They sure acted like high schoolers, sometimes.

“I feel like I’m about to rush platform nine and three quarters at King’s Cross for the first time,” I said with a snort and a chuckle.

“When were you at King’s Cross?” my dad asked with a furrowed brow.

Ah, jeez. Sometimes it was hard being the only avid reader in the family. Had my parents seriously not even seen the movies?

“That’s it!” I cried. “We’ve got like thirty hours aboard that train. More than enough time for a Harry Potter movie marathon, and when we get home, I’m lending you my book collection so that we can get you all the way caught up.”

“Homework?” my mom whined.

“Ugh, you’re the worst ever, Mom,” my dad added.

And then they kissed so long and hard that my mom’s foot popped up like a fairytale princess getting her first big kiss. Only this was their six millionth big kiss at least.

This was going to be a very long trip. Very long, indeed.

“The conductor’s waving you over,” Nan said, pointing toward a uniformed man standing just outside of our train car. “Best get a move on.”

“Are you ready?” I asked Octo-Cat.

“Just get me out of this thing,” he grumbled, as if this whole method of travel hadn’t been his idea.

“Relax,” I murmured as we made our way over to the step up into the train. “I’ll have you out in two minutes, and then it will be smooth sailing from there. After all, what’s the worst thing that can happen on a train?”

Famous last words… I really should have known better.

Chapter Two

After giving Nan one last squeeze, the four of us strode up to the train and climbed aboard. Well, Octo-Cat was carried in what he’d deemed his “travel prison.” In the back of the car, I found a grouping of four seats that faced each other, two on each side, and placed Octo-Cat’s carrier onto the aisle seat, taking the spot by the window for myself.

Nan stood exactly where we’d left her on the platform, waving furiously and hopping up and down. “Bon voyage, my dear!”

I laughed and blew her kiss.

“You’re just as embarrassing as she is,” my mom muttered, scooching over in her seat so that she and my dad had not a millimeter of space between them. “No wonder the two of you are always conspiring on something.”

I let that one slide, despite the fact that she and Dad were way more embarrassing than Nan and I would ever be. Mom had always felt sensitive about how close me and my grandmother were, and I knew she felt left out somehow. It was even worse now that we’d recently found out Nan wasn’t her real mother, that she had in fact actively kept her from her birth mom based on the request of the man both women had once loved.

Yeah, we were still untangling that one…

That’s why we were headed down to Larkhaven, Georgia. My grandfather’s side of the family still lived down there and had invited us to come on over for a little family reunion. Of course, we had no idea where my biological grandmother had gone, or even if she was still alive. But one thing at a time.

My dad whispered something in Mom’s ear, and she giggled.

“Gag me on my own hairball,” Octo-Cat drolled beside me. My sentiments exactly.

Passengers continued to pile onto the train. Dull chatter settled around me like a comforting blanket. Perhaps, this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. I watched a mother with two young children settle near the front of the train, then an elderly couple settle a bit closer to us. All kinds of people chose trains over planes, it seemed.

Who’d have ever guessed that the rail travel industry would still be going strong in the twenty-first century? Not me.

A man wearing an old-fashioned fedora and argyle sweater vest slid into the seat across the aisle, then immediately withdrew a rickety looking typewriter and began to pound on the keys. His fingers moved deftly as he added word after word to the sheaf of paper hanging from the top of his old-fashioned machine.

A typewriter on a train. Two anachronisms in one.

Throw in the fedora, and that makes three.

Suddenly the man stopped typing and pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he turned toward me.“What’s a good word for suspicious? Except for more subtle?” His unblinking eyes bored into me as he waited for some kind of genius revelation to spring forth from my mouth.

“Um, odd? Curious?” Kind of like you.

He rubbed his chin.“Hmm, I’m not sure those will work. Ahh, well. I’ll come back to it in the second draft.”

“The second draft? Are you writing a novel?”

That was kind of cool. My nan had always claimed she’d write a book, and little by little she had made progress over the past several months—although the book she was working on was a memoir, not a work of fiction. I often wondered if she planned to include the truth about my grandfather and bio-grandma.

“Oh, yes,” the man said with a smile that lit up his whole face. “Not just any novel, the next great American novel. You see, it’s about—”

“Angela!” Octo-Cat cried from inside his carrier, practically panting in his sudden onset of panic. “Get out! Get out now, or we will be forced to spend the entire journey listening to this guy’s delusions of literary grandeur.”

“It sounds wonderful,” I told the aspiring novelist. “Unfortunately, my cat needs to be fed now.”

The tabby yowled pitifully to help sell our story.

I still thought it might be cool to talk to a real live writer, but the fact that this one referred to his unfinished manuscript as the next great American novel was a flashing warning sign. This guy thought he was important, talented, God’s gift to readers, even. I was all for credit where credit was due but believed it was better to let others sing your praises than to belt them out on your own.

“I’ll be back later, okay?” I offered with a friendly smile. I didn’t want to be unsupportive of his dreams, especially since my dream of becoming a full-time P.I. with my talking cat as a partner was every bit as crazy.

“And run,” Octo-Cat directed.

I was not going to run away from the poor guy. At least not literally.

I stuck a Bluetooth device in my ear as we pushed through our car into the next. The thing hadn’t worked in years, but it did provide a great misdirect when I felt the need to talk to Octo-Cat in a public place.

“What do you think?” I asked him as I felt the train jolt to life under my feet. My hand stretched toward the wall, catching me just in time to avoid my stumbling forward.

“Well, that was unpleasant” my cat complained with a low growl. “Can I please get out of this thing now?”

“I’ll let you out as soon as we settle somewhere,” I promised, pausing for a moment to glance out the window as we rolled away from the station. Nan was still out there waving like mad, but soon she became a speck on the horizon.

He sighed and thumped around in the case.“I know it was just an excuse to get away from Chatty McMyNovel, but I could use a meal or at least a spot of Evian.”

“The dining car it is.” I raised him higher and hugged the carrier to my chest as I pushed into the next car.

I hoped the conductor wouldn’t give my parents a hard time for me being up and out of my seat already, but then again most of what I knew about trains came from old timey books and movies. Things seemed to run a bit different in our modern age of digitization.

Luckily, we only had to pass through three other passenger cars before reaching our destination. That was good news for the journey ahead. I liked knowing that snacks were nearby, should we need them.

“I should probably text Mom and Dad to let them know where we went.” I unlatched the wire front door, and Octo-Cat sprang out onto the table twitching mightily.

“You do realize that in cat years that was almost a full prison sentence, right?” He shuddered, then plopped on his side and began to lick his kitty bits for all to see—and on an eating surface, no less. At least I was used to his less than courteous ways.

Shaking my head, I sent a quick text to my mom, asking if she needed anything while we were over here. As soon as I sent the message, my phone spat out a message to let me know I had a low battery. Twenty percent. Ugh, leave it to me to be so preoccupied with the upcoming journey that I forgot essentials like making sure I had a fully charged phone.

Glancing around the dining car, however, put my fears to rest. Every single table had an electrical outlet. I just needed to fine my phone charger inside my jumbled mess of a suitcase and then we’d be perfectly fine.

“I’ll go see if they have any Evian,” I told Octo-Cat.

He mumbled something, not bothering to pause his public ministrations to address me properly.

I sighed and shook my head again, then approached the snack station with a rumbling belly. Another basic necessity I’d ignored in my excitement over the trip.

The worker saw me approaching and forced a smile. His curly red hair fell forward into his eyes, and he reached up to brush it from his face. Perhaps I would stick to prepackaged food unless I was certain he wouldn’t be the one preparing it.

I’d seen steak among the meal options, and that sounded really good right about now. Was it too early to order my dinner? I hoped not.

Before I could reach the counter to order anything, however, a woman wearing a cream skirt and matching peplum blouse intercepted me.

“Hello, there,” she said with a friendly but placid grin. “Were you just talking with your cat over there?”

She glanced over my shoulder and nodded to Octo-Cat back at our table, then set her eyes back on mine with a knowing expression, aka an expression that suggested she’d already figured out my closely guarded secret.

Five minutes aboard a train, and I’d already made a major misstep.

Uh-oh.

Chapter Three

I took a giant step back, but the lady reached out and grabbed my wrist, chuckling softly as she did.

“I didn’t mean to insult you. After all, I talk to my Grizabella constantly. Few people understand the special bond between a woman and her cat. Wouldn’t you say?” She tilted her head to the side and widened her grin.

I nodded as relief washed over me.“My name’s Angie, and he’s Octo-Cat.”

“I’m Rhonda Lou Ella Smith.” She held out her hand, which hung limp from her wrist. Did she expect a shake or a kiss? Either way, I was afraid of hurting her with my strong grip, so I settled on a fist bump… which failed miserably.

Rhonda brushed her hands off, then folded them in front of her waist.“Yes, well. Care to join us at our table? Better you than someone else, after all.” She laughed again, and the sound reminded me of a bird singing at first morning light. Everything about her reminded me of a bird, actually—from the delicate bone structure to the expensive and perfectly tailored outfit and flashy jewelry all the way to her dazzling platinum hair.

“Sure, let me just order our snacks first.” I turned back toward the redheaded counter attendant and he dropped his hand from his mouth sheepishly. Gross. I bit my nails, too, but not while working food service.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I have more than enough to share,” Rhonda promised, then sashayed back toward her table, moving so gracefully I had to wonder if she’d escaped from a ballet or a circus trapeze act or something.

“Okay, then. Be right over.” I smiled again just in case she turned back at the sound of my voice and skulked back to my table, completely baffled by the elegant woman’s interest in me. Was it really so simple as her feeling a bond to me as a cat owner?

“Whatever you agreed to, I didn’t,” my cat told me, sitting up straight and wrapping his striped tail around himself. “I’m staying right here.”

“Then I guess you won’t be getting any Evian,” I whispered, turning my back to him and counting to five under my breath.

“One of these days I’m calling the animal cruelty association on you,” he said from behind me, then jumped from the table onto my shoulder.

“Ouch! Claws!” He’d never hitched a ride on me before, so I wasn’t sure why he wanted to do it now—other than perhaps thinking it could be a fun new way to humiliate, and thus punish, me for forcing him to make nice with the other passengers.

“What a cute trick,” Rhonda chirped, clapping her hands in delight as we approached.

“Tricks? Aren’t those for old dogs? I am a cat, madame,” Octo-Cat said to our new friend, although I’m sure she only heard his croaky, entitled meow.

“Don’t bother speaking to her,” a smooth, lyrical voice rose from the bench seat. “She never understands.”

My eyes darted to the gorgeous long-haired cat with dark face, tail, and paws and striking blue eyes. Must be the previously mentioned Grizabella. There were cats, and then there were cats. Grizabella belonged to the latter classification. She looked like she could have stepped out of a textbook, so perfect was her coat, her stance, basically everything about her.

Octo-Cat stiffened on my shoulder, brushing his whiskers against my cheek as he craned to see the Himalayan better.“Pray, Angela. Do you also see an angel before us?”

An angel? What?

I tried to turn to look at him, but only got a face-full of striped tabby fur. Irritated, I pried him from my shoulder and set him onto the empty bench seat across from Rhonda.

He didn’t even protest. He also didn’t stop staring at the other cat for even a second. As soon as I set him down, he hopped onto the table, his quest for Evian apparently a thing of the past.

“Dear beautiful feline, it is an honor and a privilege to look upon you,” he said, his amber eyes growing larger the longer they beheld her. Either he’d been spending too much time around Pringle, our resident raccoon and medieval knight enthusiast, or he’d discovered one of the fantasy channels on TV. Knowing him, either was equally likely.

“I think my cat likes yours,” I told Rhonda with a chuckle. I’d never seen Octo-Cat try to flirt before, and I kind of wish I hadn’t seen it now.

“Careful,” the woman warned. “Grizabella doesn’t much like other cats, or people, or anyone, really.” She reached out to stroke the Himalayan’s long fur, but a quick paw batted her away.

Talk about a cat after Octavius’s own heart.

“I do not appreciate your attempts to flatter me, house cat,” Grizabella hissed, then cuddled up to Rhonda’s side. Talk about hot and cold. Octo-Cat also had pretty intense mood swings, but normally in the space of an hour rather than mere seconds.

And, normally, such a slight would send my tabby into a mad spiral of hurling insults and lashing claws, but not this time.“You misunderstand. I am part Maine Coon, the most ancient of American-born breeds, and I am at your service, beautiful Grizabella.” He dipped his head closer to the table and folded his ears out to the side in a show of respect.

“I don’t need your service. My human meets my needs just fine.”

“Hard to get,” Octo-Cat remarked with a jaunty laugh.

“No. Impossible to get,” Grizabella corrected, her tail flicking on the bench seat beside her and beating against her owner.

“Nothing is impossible.” Octo-Cat winked, then licked his paw. “I will find a way. After all, solving mysteries is my job. I own half of a private investigation firm, mind you.”

Grizabella did appear mildly impressed by this but said nothing.

I figured it was time for me to chat with the other human, lest we raise suspicion about our special communication link.“What brings you on board the train today?” I asked Rhonda, doing my best to focus my full attention on her.

Rhonda fingered the gold pendant that hung down from the chain of pearls around her neck. The piece was enormous and quite stunning, given the intricacy of the design carved into it. A cluster of matching pearls sat proudly in the middle of the piece, creating a real treat for the eyes. The thing must have cost an absolute fortune. On the contrary, my nicest piece of jewelry was a delicate sterling silver chain with a paw print charm that Nan had given me on my last birthday.

Rhonda glanced out the window thoughtfully.“I prefer rail travel. It’s better for Grizabella.”

“We’re headed for Georgia,” I volunteered. “Is that where you’re going?”

“Not this time. We’ll probably get off before then.” Odd that she didn’t actually name her destination, but I decided not to press. Pressing was not the point of making small talk, after all.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on a train before. Well, except maybe at the zoo.” I laughed at my own non-joke.

Rhonda did not.“You’ll like it. There’s nothing quite like it.”

“I can see that already.”

She smiled again, then returned her attention to the window. Strange she was so insistent on having us join her when she didn’t really seem to want to talk.

We fell silent. Both of us turned our attention toward the cats, who, much to Octo-Cat’s chagrin, had still not made friends.

“Oh, dear Grizabella. I will do anything for you, even lay down one of my nine lives.” He crept to the edge of the table and sat right in front of Rhonda, who cooed happily and stroked his fur.

“Not interested,” Grizabella said, lifting her nose into the air.

Octo-Cat ignored the human and continued to beg the Himalayan for her love.“I could catch a mouse. Would you like a nice dead mouse?”

Grizabella growled and ran under the table to avoid my poor lovestruck bumpkin.

When I glanced back toward Rhonda, she was chuckling into a cloth napkin.“That’s my Grizabella for you. She doesn’t much approve of other cats, and they don’t approve of her.”

I was just about to argue that Octo-Cat approved greatly of the Himalayan, but then Rhonda said,“It’s why we make such a perfect pair.”

What a strange thing to say. Was this the wealthy woman’s way of saying she didn’t approve of me—or that she thought I didn’t approve of her? Why would it even matter? And, again, why had she insisted on having us join her?

I smiled but said nothing in response. Eventually, she moved on to tell me stories of Grizabella’s many mundane adventures. Honestly, I kind of wished I’d stayed with the writer guy.

Chapter Four

Although Rhonda had promised to share her cache of snacks, she never once made an offer while we were sitting together. By the time Octo-Cat and I dismissed ourselves from her table, I was too embarrassed to remind her but also worried it would be too rude to purchase snacks right in front of her. My hopes rested on my parents now and the knowledge that my sports-obsessed dad almost always had a protein bar or bag of trail mix on him.

“Are you sure you can’t stay and chat a little longer?” Rhonda asked when I stood to go.

She glanced out the window again and I looked out, too. Clearly, we’d been sitting together for quite a while, because dusk had already begun to fall across the rolling landscape. No wonder I was starving!

“I’m sorry. I really need to get back to my parents,” I said with a shrug, hating how childish it made me sound.

“That’s wonderful that you’re so close with your family. Very special, indeed,” Rhonda said, stroking her cat absentmindedly as she watched me prepare to leave.

By some miracle, Octo-Cat returned to his carrier willingly and without complaint, presumably because Grizabella was watching. Man, if I’d known finding him a girlfriend would be the ultimate bargaining chip, I would have played matchmaker a long time ago.

“So,” I mumbled as I carried him back through the three cars on the way to ours, my Bluetooth placed perfectly. “Do you always go gaga for Himalayans, or is there something special about Grizabella in particular?”

He sighed blissfully.“I’ve never been in love before tonight. It’s like a whole new plane of consciousness has opened itself to me.” It seemed his first crush had turned him into Shakespeare. I didn’t blame Grizabella for finding his affections so wearisome.

I rolled my eyes.“Just remember, we’re not on the train for that long and you probably won’t see her after we get off at our station. Or actually, Rhonda said they’d be getting off first…” It took me a moment to make sure I had recalled that detail correctly since I had to wade through hours of cat stories to get back to the beginning of our conversation.

Suddenly, I felt very sorry for my poor kitty. Not only did he not stand a chance, but he’d probably never see his crush again. “Just don’t get all heartbroken over this,” I warned. “I hate to see you hurting.”

“Love always finds a way, Angela,” he said sagely. Although in this particular case, I had no idea how things would work out, considering the object of his affection actively disliked him.

Also they were cats. Could cats even fall in love? It seemed like maybe they could. I hoped one day Octo-Cat would find a lady who would return his romantic longings. I was also incredibly happy that he was fixed, given his complete lack of modesty when it came to… well, everything.

“Does this mean you’ll be more accepting of me and Charles?” I asked, hoping that my feline’s own brush with love might get him to stop referring to my boyfriend as UpChuck.

He said nothing, but a giant purr rolled up from the carrier in what I had to assume was the kitty version of humming blissfully while thinking of one’s beloved. Wow. He really had it bad.

Speaking of having it bad, I returned to my seat only to find my parents wrapped even tighter around each other as they both stared at my mom’s laptop with rapt attention.

“What are you guys watching?” I asked, noticing that they were sharing a single pair of earbuds.

“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two,” my mom answered without removing her eyes from the screen.

“Ugh, you guys! Why are you starting with the last one?”

“Well, we need to know it has a good ending before we invest in such a long series. Don’t we?” my father asked with one raised eyebrow.

Personally, I hated spoilers. They took away at least half the fun. At least my parents were giving it a try, though. I had to give them credit for that.

The aspiring writer I’d met before stopped typing and seemed to watch us from his peripheral vision. Was he waiting for an opening to tell me about his novel again?

Looked like I had a choice to make. I could either cuddle up with my already too cozy parents and pretend to watch the movie or I could go off exploring again. After the chat with Rhonda and Grizabella, I needed some alone time to recharge, which meant I had to get out of there before the conceited writer guy launched a second attempt at conversation.

“I just needed to grab my jacket,” I said, hoisting the lightweight denim from the seat and draping it over my shoulders. “Oh, and before I go, do you have something I can eat?”

“As the Boy Scouts say, always be prepared.” My dad picked up his travel bag and tossed a granola bar my way, still not removing his eyes from the movie. Well, at least they really seemed to like it.

“Thanks,” I called over my shoulder, already making a getaway. We’d already found the dining car, and it was probably too soon to go back if I wanted to avoid a second get-together with Rhonda. Perhaps I could find the viewing car and hang out there for a while.

We passed through the three cars between our seats and the dining car, then four more to find the empty glass-sided carriage with seats arranged down the center to face the giant walls of windows on both sides. Only the very top of the ceiling was covered in metal, providing a panoramic view as far as my eyes could see, just so long as I didn’t tilt my head up or down.

I set Octo-Cat’s carrier on the ground and opened the latch. He pranced right up to the giant window, his movements soft and swaying despite his hatred of that carrier. A gentle rain had begun to patter on the glass, surrounding us in a peaceful dream-like bubble.

“I wish Grizabella was here to see this,” he said with a longing I’d never heard from him before, not even when he spoke of his late owner, Ethel Fulton. The poor guy had it so, so bad.

“It is romantic,” I said, cuddling into my jacket and scooching around in my seat until I found the most comfortable position.

We both watched the rain for some time, and beyond that, the rolling hillside of whichever state we were steaming through now. Probably still Maine, or perhaps we’d made it to New Hampshire or even Massachusetts by now. I’d almost drifted to sleep when Octo-Cat hopped up onto the seat beside me and then climbed onto my lap, a rare move from him, indeed.

“Are you worried about meeting your family for the first time?” he asked as he padded my lap with his front paws to increase the comfiness before settling down to relax. He almost never asked how I was feeling. Normally he just told me—yes, told me how I was feeling. I decided not to point that out and just enjoy his concern. After all, I really did need someone to talk to about this.

“It’s weird,” I admitted, pensively stroking the fur at his neck. “I always thought I knew who I was and where I came from, and then suddenly it’s all wrong. And the weirdest part is that I never would have known if Pringle wasn’t such a sticky-fingered snoop.”

As much as the raccoon irritated me, I would forever have him to thank for finding and revealing the truth about my mother’s—and consequently, my—heritage.

Octo-Cat purred in a way that told me he could only be thinking of his new lady love. He still appeared to be paying at least some of his attention to me, too, so I asked,“What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“Shoes?” He huffed at the suggestion. “You’re such a human.”

I couldn’t tell whether or not this was intended as an insult, so I kept mum. I was incredibly human, after all.

He stopped purring and crossed his forelegs in front of him.“It’s different for cats. It doesn’t really matter where you came from. Only that you turned out right.”

Such a simple thought, but a nice one. Sometimes I really liked his way of looking at things.

“Cats don’t see their families again after we’re taken away. I mean, I guess strays and alley cats might.” He stopped to shudder at the thought. “But what happened with Nan and your mom, that’s really normal for cats. We are born to our cat family but then taken away by our human family, and that’s where we stay.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Nan is your human, and she’s a good one. Things could have been much worse.”

He was right about that. Sometimes my cat was so smart, and other times he stared at the wall for no apparent reason. He was weird, all right, but luckily our weirds matched just perfectly.

And with that thought, I drifted off to the sound of his purrs.

Chapter Five

The continuous song of the rain and the unexpected bliss of kitty cuddles lulled me to sleep right where I sat. I dreamed I was Anne of Green Gables taking that first fated train ride that would deliver her to the Cuthberts. A nice dream, considering Anne was one of my all-time favorite heroines.

The lovely dream came to an abrupt end, however, when a horrible shriek rent the air and four sets of claws dug deep into my lap.

“Ouch, careful!” I cried, shooting to my feet so fast that Octo-Cat fell to the ground.

He immediately popped back to all four feet and stood with his tail drooping toward the ground and his neck stretching toward the roof.“It’s my Grizabella!” he said, his ears twitching like satellite receptors. “She is in trouble. We must go to her.”

The shriek shattered the night once more, and I realized then the scream was, in fact, feline and not human. That didn’t make it less frightening, but it probably meant that most other passengers would choose to ignore it.

“It’s this way,” Octo-Cat cried, pouncing toward the door that led the opposite direction from whence we’d come. I assumed this led to the fancy sleeper cars, the ones we couldn’t quite afford but that I had no doubt Rhonda Lou Ella Smith could.

My cat was too worked up now to stuff him back in his carrier, so I grabbed it and ran after him.

He stopped at the door and shouted,“I’m coming, my darling! I’m coming!”

The shriek sounded again. This time it was accompanied by the words,“Hurry!”

I had no idea what we were walking—or rather running—into, but it definitely sounded urgent. We passed through two sleeper cars, then opened the door to the third. When we entered, we found the wailing Himalayan pacing the hall.

She ran straight up to us and nuzzled Octo-Cat’s face. “Thank you for coming so fast. My mistress… She—Oh, gosh. It’s too horrible to even say!”

Octo-Cat appeared momentarily tongue-tied, so I took the lead.

“Can you show us?” I asked, holding my hand out to show her I meant no harm.

Grizabella took a quick sniff and then turned, her poofy tail held high while the rest of her quivered with fright.

The tabby and I followed her into one of the private rooms. The door was already cracked open, and inside our new friend Rhonda lay in a creeping puddle of blood, her flawless cream suit stained almost beyond recognition.

I brought both hands over my mouth to keep from crying aloud when I noticed one of the steak knives from the dining car sticking straight out of her stomach, where she had apparently been stabbed multiple times. But why hadn’t she cried out? Surely, she would have screamed loud enough to awaken me from my dreams.

On shaky feet, I tiptoed across the soiled carpet, careful to avoid the encroaching red stain, and bent down to feel for a pulse. When I couldn’t find one on Rhonda’s wrist, I tried her neck, hoping beyond hope…

Her lovely pearl necklace with the gold pendant was gone. Had the murderer taken it? Did they kill this poor, kind woman just so they could rob her? The thought made me blindingly mad.

I shook my head as I turned back toward the cats.“I’m so sorry,” I told the distraught Himalayan.

“Oh, why? Why?” she ground out. “Why musts humans only have one life? And why must Rhonda’s have come to an end so suddenly?”

Oct-Cat pushed his face against hers, and the kindly nuzzle did appear to offer some comfort. Poor, poor Grizabella.

Even though she was still shrieking and asking various permutations of the question Why? I knew I needed to find out what she’d seen and if she had any idea who could have done this… and yes, why.

“C’mon. Let’s go out into the hall,” I said, not wanting to hang out around a dead body any longer than we had to. I made sure the door wasn’t locked, and then shut it gently behind us. “Grizabella, did you see what happened?”

She shook her head and squeezed her blue eyes shut tight.“Only after. Not during.”

“Where were you when she was attacked?” I pressed, already seeing she would be a difficult witness to question. It was to be expected for a cat, especially one in the throes of an emotional meltdown.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she sniffed.

Well, that direct refusal raised more than one red flag. I’d investigated cats as possible suspects before. Would Grizabella prove to be the culprit in her owner’s murder, too?

“Please,” Octo-Cat chimed in, finding his voice acting the role of my partner once more. “We’re here to get justice for your human, not to judge.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Grizabella asked with a sad sniff.

“Of course we won’t tell,” I assured her, and not just because anyone else I talked to about this case would immediately dismiss me as a quack if I started sharing the cat’s alibi.

“I was in the little kitty’s room, using my box. I heard someone enter and speak with Mistress just as I was in the middle of… Well, you know. The sounds were muffled, I didn’t know what she said. I waited in the other room until I heard the stranger leave, not wanting to have to play nice with any other humans for the night. No offense, but you were already more than enough for one evening.” She turned toward me and crinkled her nose. Ugh, cats were so rude sometimes.

“Go on,” Octo-Cat urged with a tenderness he never assumed when speaking with me. “What happened next?”

Grizabella gasped, remembering.“When I came out, Mistress was covered in blood and her skin had already started to turn cold.”

I briefly wondered if I should pet the Himalayan to try to calm her down, but that didn’t seem like the best idea, considering she’d barely tolerated her beloved human’s touch.

“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” I said instead. “If you don’t mind, let me ask a few follow-up questions. First, didn’t you hear Rhonda—I mean, Mistress—scream?”

“No, she did not scream or even sound upset.” The set of her jaw and the firmness in her eyes told me she had no doubt about this.

“Okay. You referred to the stranger as a she. Does that mean the person who entered was a woman?”

“Oh, darling, I don’t know. All humans look and sound the same to me.” At least I’d been upgraded to darling, although I suspect she might use the same pet name for the help as well—well, if she could. She did seem to understand that I wanted to help and had begun to cooperate a bit better.

“That’s what I always said, too,” Octo-Cat said with a hum. “Until I got to know them a bit better.”

“Yes, I did notice your human can talk,” Grizabella said gracefully lowering herself into a sitting position. “Why is that? And don’t you think it’s just a tad suspicious?”

He shook his head, immediately coming to my defense.“She’s here to help. We both are. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help us figure out what happened to your human?”

“Well, I know what happened. She’s dead.”

Great. We had a dead body that so far only I had discovered, and the only witness was a spoiled purebred who couldn’t really tell us anything, anyway. This case would be almost impossible to solve before the train arrived at the next station and the proper authorities had a chance to take over. Should I still try, or should I quietly alert the staff and do my best to secure the scene until help arrived onboard?

Our train passed through a tunnel, turning the night sky even darker than before. I caught sight of heavy stone walls from the hall window and shuddered. It felt like we were passing through a tomb.

How fitting.

I pulled out my phone to check the time. Just past four in the morning. We didn’t have any stops scheduled until seven thirty. Could we make it three and a half hours with a fresh corpse on board? And who should I tell given that the entire train seemed to be fast asleep?

The light flickered overhead and then blinked off with a startling pop. Oh, great, electrical problems were exactly what we needed now. Well, at least things couldn’t get much worse, right?

This was always a bad question, whether or not I asked it aloud.

Because at that exact moment, the train grinded to a stop right in the middle of that dark, tomb-like tunnel. We were stuck in the countryside with a murderer—a violent murderer—on the loose, and I couldn’t even see the hand in front of my face.

How very perfect.

Chapter Six

I pulled out my phone to activate the flashlight. Sixteen percent battery life remained. I really needed to invest in one of those portable chargers in case I ever again found myself trapped on a dark train with a violent killer in the future.

You know, providing I survived this time…

A giant shudder racked my body as my phone chimed merrily into the silence. It’s ringing!

Fumbling, I answered the call and raised the phone to my ear with shaking fingers. My mother’s voice burst through the speaker.

“Angie! Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Mom,” I cried. Normally, I was pretty cool under pressure, but this time I couldn’t help it. Seeing Rhonda’s butchered body up close and now being trapped in the dark right outside the door that led to her corpse, it was too much for me. It would be too much for anybody.

This wasn’t my hometown. In fact, I didn’t even know where we were on our journey from Maine to Georgia. I didn’t know the other passengers and had no idea which of them might be a killer. There was no one to trust.

No one except my cat and my parents.

“What’s wrong? Tell me how to get to you,” my mom shouted into the phone, instantly sensing something was wrong and thankfully not forcing me to say anything more until she could first make sure I was safe.

“Past the dining car. Past the viewing car. In one of the private coaches. Hurry.” I didn’t have to tell her to bring Dad, because I knew she automatically would. Maybe between the three of us, we could straighten this mess out. Of course, there would be no way to save poor Rhonda Lou Ella Smith. Not anymore.

I sank to the ground against the wall and hugged my knees while waiting for my parents to make their way back to us. I’d be the calm, rational detective later. Right now, though, I needed a few minutes to feel my emotions so that I could work through them and let them go.

Something furry brushed against my arm in the darkness.

“Why are you crying?” Octo-Cat asked me curiously. “You don’t cry.”

“It’s the dark. I think it’s making everything so much worse,” I sobbed while groping for him. As soon as my hand made contact with his fur, a bit of my bravery returned. We’d been through all kinds of dangerous scrapes before, but we’d always made it through. Together.

“The dark isn’t so much different than light. Right?” He moved away, and I shivered from the sudden absence of his warmth.

“Maybe for a cat. Humans don’t have night vision like you do.” While I explained this, I was struck with an idea. The two cats were the only ones on the train who could see without the assistance of a flashlight, which meant they were the only two who could sneak around without attracting attention.

“Octavius, Grizabella,” I called to them, not sure how close either was to me at the moment. “Can you two explore the train a little? See if you can find anyone suspicious?”

“What makes a human suspicious?” the Himalayan asked in her soft, melodic voice from across the dark car.

This was good. Focusing on the investigation helped to push the fear aside. Worry would only throw me off my game, and I needed all my wits about me, considering one of my senses had already been all but disabled.

“If they have blood on them for one. This person might also be sneaking around or searching for something. We still have no idea why someone would kill Rhonda, so until we figure that out, we need to look for general clues. Got it?”

“We can handle that,” Octo-Cat assured me, his voice a bit deeper than normal, which I assumed was some part of his misguided flirtation efforts. “The only problem is we need a human to open the doors between cars.”

Oh, right.

Just then, as if on cue, the door to our car opened, and my parents rushed in, their path illuminated by the sweeping of their twin phone lights.

“Turn one of those off,” I hissed. “We need to conserve battery power. We have no idea how long we’ll be stuck out here in the dark.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” my mom scoffed.

I forced myself to my feet, keeping one hand on the wall to steady myself.“Mom, Dad. There’s been a murder.”

“What? When?” my dad demanded, surging forward and lowering himself to inspect me.

“Right before the lights went off and the train stopped.”

My mom dropped to the floor, too, and hugged my head to her chest.“Oh, Angie. It’s not safe for you to be back here on your own.”

“Well, now you’re here, so I’m fine. See?” I forced a smile, but Mom’s light was focused elsewhere.

“I can’t see much of anything at all,” she grumbled.

I untangled myself from her arms and sat up higher.“Listen, Dad. Can you go find someone who works for the train company? Let them know we have a dead body back here and that it was definitely a murder. Call Mom if they need more details. My phone is almost dead.”

“Sure,” he answered, his voice sure, unafraid. “But what will you two do?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Mom said, and I could picture her with one hand on her hip and her eyes narrowed even though she still sat on the floor beside me.

“Solving the murder,” he responded with a knowing chuckle. “Got it. Just be careful.”

Mom pushed herself to her feet, leaving her light on the ground beside me.“You, too. I love you too much to lose you.” After my mom said this, a sticky smacking noise filled the car. Of course.

“That goes double for you two,” my dad answered before switching his phone light back on and leaving me and my mom behind to take care of business.

“Wait!” I called just before the door latched closed behind him. “Follow him,” I told the cats. “Dad, take it slow at the doors. The cats are going to follow you to see if they can find anyone acting suspiciously.”

“Roger that.” My dad probably saluted, but I couldn’t quite see due to the angle of his light. My mother had told him about my strange ability long ago, but he’d never worked with me and Octo-Cat on a case before. I liked how he agreed to my request without arguing or questioning it.

“When he comes back, you two come back, too. Okay?” I told my cat.

Octo-Cat’s brown-striped body moved into my dad’s spotlight, and he turned back to regard me with a frown. “Angela, please,” he hissed. “I’ve got this. Ladies first, Grizabella.”

The Himalayan walked ahead confidently, tail and nose both held high. The door whooshed shut behind them, and they were gone.

“Show me the crime scene,” Mom said, not wasting even a single second. I may be the family P.I., but she was an ace reporter who loved solving mysteries, too. We’d only worked together a little before, but I sure was happy to have her on my side now.

The last of my tears having spilled, I pulled myself to my feet and directed Mom’s hands—and thus her phone light—toward Rhonda’s door. “In there,” I whispered.

I kept my hand on hers, and we pushed the door open together. This time, I knew what we would find, which made it a bit easier to head back inside despite the pitch black that enveloped everything.

Chapter Seven

Mom led the way into our victim’s private room. There lay Rhonda exactly as she’d been when I first discovered her less than half an hour ago. Poor soul.

“I’d say next time we should upgrade our travel plans,” Mom said, shifting her light around the room and illuminating the cushy furnishings that I hadn’t really gotten the chance to notice earlier. “But this isn’t exactly a shining endorsement for first class.”

“Can you shine the light on Rhonda’s body?” I asked, ignoring Mom’s ill-timed joke. “I want to see if there’s anything I missed before.” Because if I missed the entire room outside of her body, I probably missed some important clues, too.

“You knew her?” Mom asked, her voice quirking in surprise.

“We met in the dining car and talked for a little bit.”

“How did that happen?” She found the light switch and flipped it back and forth, just in case. Nothing.

Having Mom here centered me. Not only was there safety in numbers, but she also might catch something that I would otherwise overlook. Together, we could do some good here—or at least keep things from getting worse.

“She asked me to sit with her and bond over our crazy cat ladiness,” I admitted with a fond smile as I remembered how desperate she had been simply to make a new friend. “That Himalayan belongs to her, and Octo-Cat is quite smitten.”

“He always did like the finer things,” my mom said thoughtfully, then cleared her throat and focused her phone on Rhonda’s body. “Did she tell you anything that might be relevant to her murder?”

I bit my lip as I studied Rhonda’s face. Her features weren’t distorted by terror or even anger. She simply looked at peace, which I found all the more unsettling. “We didn’t say much, and I wasn’t cataloging our conversation for later use, but at least one thing stood out. She either didn’t know or wouldn’t share her destination.”

Mom flinched at this revelation, turning to face me with wide eyes.“What do you mean?”

“I told her we were going to Georgia, and she said she’d probably get off before then. Probably. Not definitely.”

“So she had no clear destination in mind,” she summed up.

“That’s what I’m thinking. Or something happened to make her want to get off earlier than planned.” She’d looked distracted and had glanced out the window an awful lot. Could that be related?

“Lot of good that did her.” Mom swept the light down Rhonda’s body and paused when she reached her stomach. “Stabbed multiple times. It looks like maybe five. It’s hard to tell with all the blood.”

I felt sick to my stomach, remembering how much I’d craved steak earlier that evening. Now I would probably never want to eat it again—or at least I’d be using a butter knife to saw off bite-sized pieces. “Someone had to have enough foresight to take the steak knife from the dining car, but the presence of multiple wounds makes me think this was a crime of passion.”

“So, premeditated, but only very slightly. Hmm.” Mom’s carefully coifed hair didn’t even move as she shook her head from side to side. Small wrinkles lined her forehead and the edges of her mouth, though, while she stared at the body pensively.

“Grizabella—that’s her cat—said she heard Rhonda talking with someone after they entered the room. She was in the bathroom at the time and couldn’t make out any of the words. She also couldn’t tell if the visitor was male or female,” I revealed, wanting to make sure she had just as much information as I did.

Mom sighed.“Meaning we don’t have much to go on.”

“Maybe the room has a clue. You have the light, so maybe you can search her things while I see what I can find on her phone.”

She turned on me so fast, I lost my breath from the sudden fright.“Why don’t you have a light?”

“My phone is almost out of battery. Trying to conserve it in case there’s an emergency later.”

Mom sighed.“I’d tell you to be more responsible, but I’m guessing this is already one heck of a lesson. Let’s find her phone so you can get started.”

She shone her tiny flashlight around the room, locating Rhonda’s cell phone almost immediately. It lay on the dresser beside a small travel case that looked like it would be used for makeup or toiletries. “I’ll start here,” Mom said, unzipping the case and riffling through the contents.

While she did that, I picked up the phone, praying it would be easy to access. And yes! Thankfully, Rhonda had elected to use a fingerprint to unlock her phone rather than a passcode, so I returned to her body, then very carefully and very respectfully pressed her index finger to the surface. The dark lock screen gave way to a photo of Grizabella sitting on a plump pillow and staring straight into the camera.

Aww. She really had loved her cat.

While that was sweet, however, it wouldn’t help me figure out who killed her or why. I needed to learn more than just the surface stuff during our search, needed to find something that could set me and my mom on the right path.

So first I checked her email.

All the unread messages made me cringe. I’d always been an inbox clearer and couldn’t understand people who hoarded thousands of unread messages, especially when so much of it appeared to be spam. After scrolling through the first several dozen emails and finding nothing but cat blogs and clothing sales, I decided to move on to her social media.

Unsurprisingly, Rhonda’s Instagram was actually a fan account for Grizabella. She only had a couple thousand followers, but they appeared to interact regularly with her posts. I scrolled through the recent hearts and found almost every profile picture to be either a cat or a person smiling beside a cat. Well, Rhonda clearly had one very specific use for the platform—one and nothing else.

On Twitter, she followed a handful of politicians and other celebrities but didn’t appear to tweet anything herself. Also not helpful.

But what would Facebook bring? Hopefully something a bit more useful.

Here, Rhonda had very few friends and posted rather infrequently. Her most recent update was a checkin at a train station in New Brunswick, which was strange because I was pretty sure I remembered seeing her on the platform when we’d boarded in Bangor.

Rhonda’s post simply read: Off on another journey!

Scrolling through her feed revealed the usual combination of baby pics, wedding pics, and humble brags from her modest friends list. Hmm.

“Angie,” my mom whispered. She hadn’t been whispering before, so whatever she had to say, I was guessing it would be good. “I’ve found something.”

I swung the phone around to illuminate the room and found her sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed at the ankle. In her hand, she held a small book, and on her face she wore an excited smile.

Here we go.

Chapter Eight

Like most older people I knew, Rhonda had kept her phone fully charged, which meant I didn’t need to be careful about preserving its battery life—and thank goodness for that. I used the screen to illuminate my path as I moved carefully past her body and joined my mother at the bed.

“It’s her personal planner,” Mom revealed, flipping through the pages demonstratively. “You know, like the calendar app, but on paper.”

“C’mon, Mom. I know what a personal planner is.” The cover on this one was made of blue leather that I suspected matched the exact shade of Grizabella’s eyes. Gold trimmed the edges of each page, not unlike a Bible.

Mom shook her head and continued to search through the entries until she landed on the current week.“Here,” she pointed to the box reserved for yesterday. “She got on in New Brunswick. A bit earlier than us.”

“I found the same thing on her Facebook profile, but I could’ve sworn we saw her when we were saying goodbye to Nan. She was in a hurry, but I definitely remember that blinged out cat carrier of hers.”

Mom tucked her heavily hair sprayed hair behind her ears, but it immediately bounced back to its previous shape.“Huh. I don’t remember seeing her, but maybe she just got off to stretch her legs.”

“Or to a say a quick hello to someone waiting at the station,” I suggested. We’d only seen her returning, though. Huh, indeed.

“So she got off, but she got back on,” Mom recapped with a shrug. “Hang on. Let me see what else is in here.”

While she thumbed through the planner, I returned to Rhonda’s email and searched the name of the train company. Sure enough, since she never discarded anything, her travel itinerary popped right up.

“She was headed to Houston,” I told Mom hardly believing anyone would want to be on a train for such a very long trip, but then again, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with a private room. Still, she had either knowingly lied to me or changed her plans quite suddenly. “She told me she’d probably get off before Georgia.”

Mom stood and marched over to me, then shoved the planner in my free hand.“Her planner has a cat show in that area early next week.”

So a sudden change of plans, then.“I wonder if the person she met at our stop said something that spooked her. Like maybe a threat. Maybe she reached out to me in the dining car because she felt safer with company.”

Now I felt terrible. Had I been given the opportunity to save her, only to run away because I couldn’t take another mundane cat story?

“That’s a lot of maybes,” Mom said, rubbing my shoulder like she somehow knew I was partially blaming myself for poor Rhonda’s fate. “I do agree this is all very suspicious, but we don’t know anything for sure.”

I shook those feelings aside and focused on the facts. Whether or not I’d played a role in what had happened, the best thing I could do now was to find justice for the poor lonely woman who loved her cat more than anything else in this world.

“She was wearing a necklace when I met her, but the necklace was gone when Octo-Cat and I came in presumably just minutes after her murder,” I told Mom, forcing myself to move on.

Mom frowned and set the planner down where she’d initially found it. “Missing necklace. Quick visit to the platform in Bangor. Abandoned trip to Houston. Five stab wounds. We have a lot of little bits and pieces, but not enough to know what kind of puzzle we’re building.”

“Don’t forget the distraught feline. It was Grizabella’s cries that alerted us to the trouble.” Despite the Himalayan’s cool demeanor when we’d first met her in the dining car, her reaction to Rhonda’s death showed the cat had loved her owner just as much as she’d been loved by her.

“Now that’s interesting. Could it be a jealous cat show competitor?” Mom ventured, taking the planner back from me and holding it in both her hands as we continued to talk. “They were on their way to a show, after all. Maybe someone threatened them to keep them on the sidelines this year, so another cat could take the crown.”

“I don’t think cat shows work the same as beauty pageants,” I said with a wry laugh. Laughing was good. It kept the horror from creeping in. “But it’s not a bad theory. A jealous rival killed her off and then took the necklace to make it look like a simple robbery.”

Mom nodded, but her face remained grim.“There are worse reasons to take a life. Not many, mind you, but I’m sure there are at least some.”

The door swung open so suddenly, it made us both jump in fright. My heart hammered a heavy tattoo against my chest.

“Helloooooo!” a young male voice bellowed. Then he gasped and his voice became higher. “Holy heck, so that guy’s crazy claims are true, after all.” He moved into the room and shone his lantern-style flashlight on Rhonda’s body. The curly red hair immediately struck me as familiar. This was the same worker I’d spied in the snack car, the one I’d almost bought snacks from before Rhonda intercepted me.

“Hi. That crazy guy was my husband,” Mom said, offering him a friendly wave.

The man—who couldn’t have been much older than a teenager—staggered back and lifted a hand to his chest. “Yeesh, don’t do that! I thought the dead was rising again.”

Okay, so this kid had seen one too many zombie movies in his day. He also had access to the dining car and all of its knives. Could he be the killer returning to the scene of the crime? If so, Mom and I could definitely take him. Not that I wanted to engage in a fight to the death… now or ever.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked, studying him closely. His pale, blemished skin looked ghastly in the glow of his lantern. His skinny arms didn’t appear strong enough to inflict the wounds I’d seen on Rhonda, but then again, young mothers could lift entire vehicles to save trapped babies—or so the rumor went.

“My boss sent me over here to check it out, since my station was the closest. He said that—” He stopped abruptly and raised his light higher. “Ha! Nice way to distract me. What are you doing in here alone with a dead body?”

He took another big leap back into the hall, terror washing over his once accusing features.“Wait. Did you kill her? Are you going to kill me?”

“Well, that depends…” Mom said and then moved slowly toward the frightened worker.

Yikes! What was happening?

Chapter Nine

“Mom,” I shouted, at the same time elbowing her in the stomach.

“She’s kidding,” I assured the young train worker. He hadn’t shown up at work today knowing he’d have a dead body and a crazy small-town news anchor to deal with, and Mom’s attempt at humor was definitely not helping to ease the tension this time.

Mom said nothing, so I continued chatting nervously, even going so far as to raise my hands to show we meant the young man before us no harm.“We were the ones who discovered the body. Dad went to tell your boss while we stayed here to make sure no one would disturb the scene. You work in the dining car, right? I think I saw you there earlier. What’s your name?”

He stepped back into the room, his shoulders sloped forward defensively or perhaps in defeat.“Yes, that’s me. My name is Dan, and I’m just trying to do my job and—you know—not get murdered.”

“Aren’t we all?” Mom said, and I elbowed her in the ribs again.

“I’m Angie, and I’m a private investigator back in Maine. The deceased is Rhonda Lou Ella Smith. I met her earlier today. Perhaps you saw us together in the dining car.”

Dan nodded, even chanced a smile.“Yeah. Yeah, I think I did.”

Good. This was good. Now that he recognized me, he relaxed enough to hold a rational conversation and to stop accusing me and mom of murder.

“I’m trying to piece together what I can, so I can hand things over to the cops when they arrive,” I continued, motioning toward the planner in mom’s hands and then showing him the phone in mine. “Was she there a long time before I came in or a long time after I left? Did you notice anything unusual about her?”

Dan took the phone from me but didn’t do anything with it other than hold it at his side. It seemed to further relax him, though. After all, most murderers wouldn’t hand over evidence that could likely convict them.

“I don’t know,” he said after a slight pause. “She seemed normal enough. Weird, but normal.”

“Weird how?” I pressed, keeping my eye on the phone. I would need that back at some point.

“She kept talking to her cat like it was a person. I noticed people looking at her funny, but I thought it was kind of nice. Who’s to say cats can’t understand us, right?”

“Sure,” I said dismissively, happy Mom kept quiet on that one. While she thought revealing my secret pet-whispering ability would make for a great human-interest story, she at least respected that I’d prefer not to let the world in on my strange power. “Did you notice when she arrived in the dining car or when she left?”

“She came in right when we left the Bangor station,” Dan said, then nodded in confirmation. “I remember, because she was my first customer and it was just the two of us until you arrived a short while later.”

“Did the two of you talk?”

“Just enough for her to place an order. It was a big one.”

“Could you tell me if—?”

The door swung open again, and in marched my father. The two cats followed him inside, and then a fourth figure joined us in the private room. Dad shut off his phone—not needing it now that Dan was here with his lantern—then made his way to Mom’s side.

The cats stayed quiet, watching us from near the doorway.

I couldn’t quite make out who the new person was, given that the brim of his hat cast his face in creepy shadows. But then he opened his mouth to talk, leaving no doubt as to his identity.

“Wow,” he said on the wings of a dramatic exhale. “You read about it. You write about it. But you never think you’ll actually stumble upon a reallive murder mystery. And on a train. This is so Agatha Christie!”

“Easy, Tolstoy. There’s been a murder here. Show some respect for those of us who didn’t make it,” my father warned, wrapping his arm around Mom’s waist protectively.

“Who’s this guy?” Dan asked, swinging his light closer to the writer who’d invited himself into this intimate scene.

“The name’s Melvin Mann. Remember it, because one day soon you’ll see it at the top of the New York Times Bestsellers list.” I couldn’t be sure given the current lighting situation, but I think he actually made jazz hands to punctuate his expression.

Oh, brother.

“Well, Melvin,” I said slowly, trying not to gag on my words. “This is a crime scene, not Grand Central Station. I think it’s time you went back to your seat.”

“Oh, really? What gives you any more right to be here than I have?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped deeper into the room.

“Because I’m a P.I. That’s why.” Would I really need to establish that with each new person who arrived? Apparently.

He leaned forward, making himself several inches shorter so he could look me right in the eye.“Prove it.” His words smacked of condescension. Not only did this guy think he was better than everyone else, but he also seemed to think I was worse. Infuriating.

“What? I can’t prove it beyond my word.”

He straightened back to full height.“Show me a business card or something.” Right, because it was impossible to create cards that read anything you wanted them to.

Case in point, Melvin pulled a stack of cards out of his pocket with a flourish and handed them around.“See, Melvin Mann, novelist. Now show me yours?”

“I don’t have any business cards on me. Sorry.” I would have turned out my pants pockets, if I had any. He seemed the kind of guy to appreciate overwrought gestures, like purple prose in real life.

He jabbed a finger at me so hard it would probably be a bruise.“Ah-ha! See, I knew you were just pretending.”

My father rushed to my side and stared at Melvin so ferociously that the other man couldn’t help but take a step back.

“Look, we can stand here arguing until the killer finds us, too,” my dad said, not taking his hard eyes off the writer for a second. “Or we can work together to solve this thing.”

“Oooh, I like that,” Melvin said, steepling his fingers in a far too sinister fashion for my liking. “This is wonderful inspiration for the mystery story arc of my novel.”

I held in a sigh, an eyeroll, and a groan all at once.“Earlier you were asking me about suspicious characters, so why don’t you go find some?”

“I wasn’t asking about the characters. I have my characters on lock, thank you very much. I was asking about synonyms.”

“Just do what she says, JD Salinger,” my father growled, taking another threatening step forward.

Melvin stood in place; a smile snaked across his face.“You think calling me by classic novelists’ names is an insult, but it’s really quite the opposite.”

Dad did not hold back the choice words he had in response to that.

I turned to Dan, ready to put this whole macho showdown—or whatever the heck it was—to rest. “Can you go check in with your bosses? See if we can get the train moving again or the police sent to our location. Something. Anything to help.”

“Can do,” he said, offering a thumbs up and a smile. At least he was more cooperative than Melvin Mann. The haughty writer would be a liability in this investigation, no doubt.

“Great. Thanks so much.” I pushed them both toward the door. “Oh, and one last thing. Please keep the other passengers in the dark about this. No need to start a panic.”

“In the dark,” my mom said with a chuckle. “Good one.”

I swear, even if she and Nan weren’t related by blood, sometimes it was simply impossible to ignore the similarities they shared. Mom was far more pragmatic and a lot more normal than either Nan or me, but she belonged with us all the same.

We were a family, and nothing—not even newly exposed secrets—could change that.

Chapter Ten

After Dan and Melvin exited, I closed the door behind them and twisted the lock to ensure those of us who remained had some privacy.

“Mom, Dad, could you continue to search the room? I’m going to catch up with the cats,” I said once I could no longer hear the departing men’s footfalls in the corridor.

“Oh, sure, honey,” Mom answered for them both. “We’ll stay out of your way, Miss Pet Whisperer P.I.” She was the one who had come up with that name for Octo-Cat’s and my operation and was immensely proud of it—even though I secretly hated it. Talk about parading my secret for all to see! I pretended it was just a gimmick, but I had to wonder if the unusual name was the reason our firm hadn’t received a single paying case to date.

“Let’s go to the bed so we aren’t in the way,” I told the cats, but it was my dad who moved in the direction I had dictated.

I laughed awkwardly. He hadn’t gotten used to this yet. Well, he was about to become very familiar with how things went when I was working a case with animal assistance.

“Oh, you meant…” He flashed his light toward Grizabella, and the startled feline hissed.

“Well, you have fun with that, then,” he finished, backing slowly away.

“Why did you hiss at him?” I asked the Himalayan, not bothering to hide my irritation as I narrowed my eyes at her.

“He shone that bright light right in my eyes. It hurt!”

Ouch. Okay.

“Sorry, he didn’t mean to.” Again I wondered if I should pet her as a way of offering comfort, and again I decided against it. I had a sneaking suspicion that Grizabella didn’t much like me, and I’d hate to actually be proven right while our investigation was still ongoing.

We settled on the bed. Given the way the comforter lay completely smooth, I guessed she hadn’t tried going to sleep before meeting with her murderer. The cats each lay on a pillow, leaving me to sit farther down the mattress.

“Okay, what did you learn while you were out there?” I had no light with me but could make out their vague shapes in the spill-off from Mom and Dad’s.

“Nothing,” Grizabella answered for the both of them. She sounded almost bored.

“But you followed Dad the whole way, right?”

“We did,” Octo-Cat assured me. “But we found nothing that drew our attention.”

Well, I hadn’t expected this. I was sure my kitty reconnaissance would turn off at least something helpful. “What about anyone who looked, sounded, or smelled familiar, Grizz?”

A threatening growl rose in the dark.“Don’t call me Grizz. My name is Grizabella, and no, I didn’t notice anything. Just as I told you before. This is hard for me, so please pay attention the first time around.”

Yeesh, she sure made it hard to want to help her.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that she was grieving and probably even more startled by Rhonda’s murder than either me or Octo-Cat. We’d investigated deaths before, but Grizabella had never had to deal with anything like this.

Why would she? Why would anyone?

“I’m sorry,” I said, hoping she’d believe the sincerity in my words. I truly did feel sorry for everything she’d gone through already, everything she’d still need to go through before this case was settled. “I just have a hard time believing this was a simple robbery. Someone wanted Rhonda dead, and I want to know why.”

“Look at this!” Mom called from the bathroom, appearing in the doorway. From behind her, Dad shone his light on the object in her hands. An ornately carved wooden jewelry box.

“I don’t think it was a robbery,” she mumbled, proving that we were on the exact same page. “Otherwise, why would they leave this behind? There’s got to be thousands in diamonds and other precious stones in here.”

Each necklace, bracelet, and pair or earrings she held up was more dazzling than the last. Many of the pieces boasted gigantic sapphires. And again I wondered if she chose the blue to match her cat’s eyes.

“It’s all silver,” I pointed out. “But the necklace she wore when I met her in the dining car was gold and pearl.”

Mom searched the ornate box, shaking her head.“Well, there’s nothing like that in here.”

Grizabella spoke from across the bed.“The necklace she wore today was her most prized possession. An important family heirloom handed down from her grandmother to her.”

“So whoever took the necklace wanted the heirloom, but not the other, arguably even more valuable, pieces,” I summed up for the humans who couldn’t speak cat, rubbing my chin as I tried to make sense of all this.

“Or the killer struck for a completely different reason, saw an opportunity, and stole the necklace she was wearing but didn’t think to search the room for other valuables,” Mom ventured.

Dad nuzzled her from behind and kissed her neck.“I love seeing you in action. You’re so smart.”

“Not the time, guys,” I spat, quickly looking away. Despite being an adult, I still hated seeing my mom and dad’s flagrant and very public displays of affection.

“There is literally a dead body right there,” I motioned toward Rhonda, hoping my parents turned their light to me in enough time to read the disapproving expression on my face.

“Sorry. We’ll just keep searching,” Dad said as Mom turned to take the jewelry box back into the bathroom.

“Grizabella,” Octo-Cat said gently. “What can you tell us about your life with Rhonda? What kinds of things did you do? What kinds of places did you go?”

Good questions, especially since asking Grizabella who would have wanted her owner dead would likely cause the Himalayan to either close right up or get overly emotional again.

The cat answered with a smile in her voice.“Rhonda was a very kind mistress. We traveled constantly, usually by train. Sometimes on a first-class jet. Mostly we went to cat shows, but sometimes we went places simply to take pictures of me amidst new scenery. I think Rhonda had a hard time staying put in one place because it reminded her of how lonely she’d let herself become.”

Oh, this was good stuff. If Grizabella was willing to expand upon it, I was sure we’d learn something important.

“What do you mean?” I asked softly.

“I’ve been with Rhonda since I was a very small kitten. She’s all I’ve ever known for my five human years in this world. Still, in all that time, she’s never had visitors, never gone on dates, never done much of any of the things the humans do in television shows and movies.”

“I love watching TV, too,” Octo-Cat butted in. “Do you like Law& Order? It’s my favorite.”

“Heavens, no,” the other cat answered in disgust. “I much prefer love stories to those with blood and gore.”

Octo-Cat stumbled over his response.“Oh, yeah. Right. Have you seen When Harry Met Sally? I really like the part when she—”

“Octavius,” I interrupted, assuming he preferred his fancy name in the presence of our refined acquaintance. “This really isn’t the time for that. We need to hear more about Rhonda. That’s what’s important now.”

“Thank you,” Grizabella said, surprising me with her politeness and the fact she’d acknowledged I’d done something right.

“Normally I love speaking about such frivolities, but normally my human is safe and sound beside me. Oh, my poor mistress…” Her words fell away, but then she shrieked the same terrible cry that first brought us to this car.

“And oh no! What will become of me, now that she’s gone?”

I wished I had an answer for her, but unfortunately I knew even less than Grizabella did—especially if Rhonda had been as big a loner as she claimed.

Chapter Eleven

Grizabella yowled again.

“What’s wrong?” Mom and Dad cried in unison.

“It’s okay,” I assured them. “Well, I mean, it’s not exactly okay. She just realized she doesn’t know where she’ll go now that her owner’s passed.”

“Oh, poor sweet thing.” Mom crossed the room along the edge and then petted the mourning Himalayan. “A nice, gorgeous girl like you will find a new home in no time.”

Grizabella stopped shrieking but moved away from Mom’s attempts to pet her. “I don’t want a new home. I want my life with Mistress.”

My heart broke for the newly orphaned feline. Since discovering Rhonda’s body, we’d only worked toward solving her murder. None of us had taken any time to see how Grizabella was coping.

“Anyone could see how much Rhonda loved you. Heck, she even made a fan account for you on Instagram, and it has more than two-thousand followers.”

“Yes, but those are fans,” the cat responded with disdain. “I don’t know a single one of them personally.”

“Angela will figure something out,” Octo-Cat promised, purring to show her it would all be okay. “She always does.”

The doorknob rattled and then someone pounded against the door, bringing the tender exchange to an immediate halt.

“Hey,” Dan yelled in his squeaky, pubescent voice. “Why is this thing locked?”

The frantic pounding started again, and Dad ran over to let him in.“Sorry about that!”

“We didn’t want anyone stumbling in by accident,” I explained, leaving out the part about taking the extra measure to protect my secret. “What’s up? What did your bosses say?”

Dan looked back toward the door as if it had personally slighted him, then turned back toward us with lantern held high.“The police are on their way, but it could be a while given our remote location. Figures, right?”

“Yeah,” I said amicably as my eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness of his lantern-style flashlight again. “Anything else? Do they know what stopped the train?”

He shook his head sadly and in obvious fear.“Only that it’s been tampered with somehow. Whoever it was knew what he was doing, ensuring it would be next to impossible to get moving again without an expert mechanic familiar with this kind of train.”

Crud.

Dan’s expression lightened and he rocked his lantern playfully. “I do have good news, though.”

Octo-Cat climbed onto my lap, and I drew strength from his calming presence. Seriously, this case was so different than usual. We hadn’t fought one bit. Perhaps we were evolving.

“Well, out with it already,” Mom demanded. She only liked dramatic pauses when she was the one making them.

“The lights will be much easier to fix,” Dan said, properly chastised. “Someone cut a few wires, but we’ve already found a passenger who says he knows how to fix it. He’s working on it now.”

“That is good news,” Mom agreed, then flashed her phone at me. “And a lucky break for those who weren’t responsible enough to charge up before the journey.”

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. A migraine wasn’t exactly what I needed right now. “So at least our circumstances aren’t getting worse,” I reminded everyone.

“You girls stay in here,” Dad instructed, moving toward the door. “Dan, bring that big light of yours and come with me.”

I chased after him, refusing to be left behind.“Excuse me. None of that macho nonsense. Wherever you’re going, I’m coming, too. So spill.”

Dad sighed and placed his hand against the wall in defeat.“Why do you always have to assume it’s something like that? I chose Dan because he has the best light and we’re going to need it.”

Yeah, there was no way I would be sitting out the next leg of our investigation. I turned to the young redheaded worker and held my hands out in supplication.“Dan, may I please borrow your light?”

He reluctantly handed it over, and I turned back to Dad with a giant smile of triumph.“You were saying?”

He chuckled at let out a low whistle.“You are just like your mother sometimes. C’mon, we’re going to go nose around outside and see what we can find.”

“Will you stay with my wife?” Dad asked Dan, and they shared a manly nod.

“I’m coming, too!” Octo-Cat called, jumping off the bed and joining us at the door.

“And I’m staying,” Grizabella said, crossing her paws in front of her.

“Let’s go, Dad,” I said, lifting the lantern high as I followed him to the end of the car. We found an exit toward the outside there, but it appeared to be jammed up tight. In the next car over, we found the door already slightly ajar, having swung back into the car a couple inches.

“Hopefully, somebody just needed a cigarette break really, really bad,” Dad told me with a shrug and then pulled the door open the rest of the way so we could exit into the tunnel.

Very little space lay to either side of the train. Dad and I could walk side by side, but not comfortably. The stone walls pressed in close as we studied the gravel beside the tracks. Add in the intense darkness and it was almost like we’d been buried alive. Creepy.

Dad stopped walking and put out an arm to stop me, too. With his other hand, he pointed a few feet ahead.“Blood.”

Sure enough, dark red droplets stained the light scattering of stones and pebbles. Even creepier.

“Did you see any earlier?” Dad asked, sweeping his phone light back toward the exit we used.

I shook my head soundlessly, then continued forward to see if the blood might form a trail.

“Stay by me,” Dad called out, a quiver moving through his strong voice. “We don’t know how close the murderer still is. For all we know, he could be right here hiding in the tunnel just a few feet away. And I’m not risking losing you.”

I gulped and returned to his side.

Dad hooked his arm over my shoulders and pulled me close.“We do this together. Understand? You have my back, and I’ll have yours.”

“Awww. That’s great for you guys. I’ll go check things out on my own, though,” Octo-Cat said, trotting off in the direction I’d just abandoned.

It worried me, him going off on his own, but what reason would a murderer have to hurt a random cat? There’s no way the culprit could know that Octo-Cat was investigating this crime.

Dad and I moved slowly, using my light to illuminate our path and his to search the gravel.“I’m not seeing any more blood,” he said. “Are you?”

I’d never been so disappointed not to find evidence of a violent crime. At least if we had a proper trail to follow, we’d know that the killer had left the train—and we may even be able to follow the drops to find him.

“No,” I answered with a racking sigh. “Someone was definitely out here, and given how close the exit and the blood are to Rhonda’s room, I’m guessing it was our killer. But I don’t think he was injured. It’s probably a bit of Rhonda’s blood that dripped off his hands or something.”

“But if he had the blood on his hands, wouldn’t it be on the door?” Dad pointed out, continuing to move the tiny point of light from his phone around the path. “And also, why are we assuming the killer is a he?”

“Touch?,” I said. “It could definitely be a woman. Good thought, though. Let’s go check out that door.”

We closed the rest of the distance back to our entry and exit point, and I was just about to step through into the train when an anguished cry rang out from deeper in the tunnel.

A cat’s cry.

“Octo-Cat!” I shouted and took off running. There was no way I was leaving him to face whatever danger lurked nearby on his own. I just hoped Dad could keep up.

Chapter Twelve

“Angie, wait!” my dad yelled, but I kept running as fast as I could toward the spot where Octo-Cat had cried out into the black night. By the time I found him lying on his side amidst the gravel, I’d practically run out of breath both from the burst of exercise and my pumping adrenaline.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

Praying hard, I scooped him into my arms and clutched him against my chest.“What happened? Are you okay? Octo-Cat, talk to me!”

“Oof, take it down a couple notches, would you,” he muttered, shaking his head as if my volume had physically injured him.

“What happened? Did you see the killer?” I demanded, searching his glowing amber eyes for answers.

“The killer? Of course not. I’d tell you if I found the killer.” He actually had the audacity to laugh at me.

“Then why did you scream? I thought you were hurt.”

Now that I knew my cat was okay, I wanted to wring his furry little neck for striking such fear straight into my poor pet-owning heart.

“I am hurt,” he said with a low growl, then shifted in my arms and shoved a paw into my face. “I got a little rock or something stuck between my toe beans. See.”

“That reaction was about your toe beans?” I practically screamed but then, remembering the need not to disturb the other passengers on the train, dropped my voice to a whisper yell.

“Don’t act like you don’t love them.” He laughed again, and it took all I had to keep listening as he spoke. “Now can you please be a good human and dislodge this thing for me?”

Quickly, I plucked the pebble from his paw and tossed it away, then set him back on the ground.

“Thank you,” he said, walking back toward our exit door with an exaggerated limp that I had no doubt he was faking for my benefit.

“What happened?” Dad asked, concern still etched in his features despite my utterance of the ridiculous phrase toe beans.

“Cat drama,” I explained in a growl, still beyond angry at Octo-Cat for worrying me needlessly. “C’mon, let’s go back to Mom and Dan.”

We marched single file back toward the open door with me leading and Dad following. Once aboard, we stopped to inspect the door handle but found no blood marring its smooth surface. We did, however, find another spot on the carpet, only a few feet from the door, but—given the fact that each car was close to a hundred feet long—quite far from Rhonda’s room.

Any dripping blood fell infrequently. No gushing here.

It was fully likely we’d find more if we continued investigating outside the train, but the whole toe bean incident had spooked me thoroughly. It also made both Dad and I realize how vulnerable we were out there with no real way to protect ourselves.

“What did you find?” Mom asked, greeting us at the door to Rhonda’s room and throwing her arms around Dad as if they’d been separated for days and not mere minutes. “I heard something, but Dan wouldn’t let me go investigate.”

“Good man,” my dad said, giving the young redhead a fist bump.

“Nothing happened,” I explained, then took on a cutesy voice I knew would drive my cat crazy. “The wittle kitty just got an ouchie in his wittle paw.”

“Angela!” he cried, mouth gaping open in horror. “Not in front of another cat!”

Grizabella laughed, which made me laugh, too.

Dan just looked at me like I was certifiable. Maybe I was.

I returned his lantern to him, then caught everyone up on the droplets of blood Dad and I had discovered.“Did you find anything more in here?” I asked once I’d finished.

“Nope. You weren’t actually gone all that long, you know,” Dan answered, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms.

Mom shrugged and offered me a weary smile.“Unfortunately, no.”

We weren’t going to solve anything by staying huddled together in this room. Someone had to search the train, and that someone was me.

“You guys keep searching here, and don’t let anyone else inside,” I said. “I’m going to see if I can find anything a bit further afield.”

“Meaning you’re going off by yourself,” Dad summarized with a stern set to his jaw

“I’ll take the cats,” I said, drawing another strange look from Dan; he had the good grace not to say anything, though.

I didn’t stick around to argue the point with my dad anymore. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of people aboard this train. And only one of them was a killer. That is, if the killer hadn’t disembarked and run away like we now suspected.

I turned on my phone to guide our way. Twelve percent battery left. Dan said the lights would be back on soon, and I was banking on that in a huge way now.

“Why are we doing a sweep of the passenger cars again?” Octo-Cat asked, obvious irritation laced in his nasally voice. Apparently, my little trick earlier had cost me his pleasant cooperation. This didn’t bother me much, given that I was already well accustomed to working with a crabby tabby.Things actually felt more natural now.

“She doesn’t trust us,” Grizabella answered for me.

We moved into the next car, heading in the direction of the viewing car, dining car, and eventually our assigned seats. I paused after assuring no one had eyes on us.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys. I mean, of course I trust you guys. But sometimes things are worth a second look, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Octo-Cat responded with a furious flick of his tail. “You’re right. She doesn’t trust us.”

“Told you,” Grizabella said, also flicking her fluffy tail. So glad they were bonding over this.

I sighed, then spoke while trying to keep the frustration from my voice.“Can you guys just… We’re working together, not against each other. We all have the same goal here, so let’s act like it.”

That shut them up fast. Thank goodness for small miracles.

“Keep an eye out for any strange behavior, and keep trying to think of new ideas in case this doesn’t work,” I said when I was sure neither would hurl another argument at me.

“It won’t work,” Grizabella complained, and I had to bite my tongue to avoid flying into a full-scale lecture about what I’d only just said. Could she really not see how hard I was trying to help here?

Help for me came from an unlikely source.“She’s trying her best,” Octo-Cat explained softly. “Even if it’s not very good.”

Grizabella harrumphed but continued to follow me as I marched off toward the next car.

Oh, boy. I really hoped we’d find something on our tour of the train, because I’d love to make these cats eat crow.

Chapter Thirteen

Well, it looked like I’d be the one eating crow in the end.

Our sweep of the train turned up nothing, just as the cats had warned. Most of the passengers appeared to be sleeping. The few who had woken up seemed relaxed and unbothered, probably because they didn’t know about the dead body that lay several cars back.

I corralled my feline companions into the tiny vestibule between cars to chat about what we should do next.“Before you say I told you so, listen up. We can’t exactly shine lights in everyone’s faces and ask them if they killed Rhonda.”

“Why not?” Grizabella asked with a long, flat face as she sat back heavily on her haunches.

“Darling, please. Let the professionals talk.” Octo-Cat raised a paw to the Himalayan’s mouth to silence her. Wow, he had a lot to learn about women.

And, okay, perhaps I laughed a bit too hard when she bit him right on his poor injured toe bean. Served him right for condescending to her, especially after he saw what happened when I attempted to shorten her overly fancy name.

A whir sounded overhead, announcing the repaired electrical system. As the overhead lights popped backed on, muffled cheers rose from the cars on either side of us. People wanted to celebrate, but not wake their seatmates, which could definitely work to our advantage.

“Well, look at that.” Octo-Cat deadpanned as I rubbed my eyes and wished for my sunglasses. “The lights are back on. Now, shall we return to plan A?”

“There wasn’t a plan A,” I reminded him as bright spots danced at the edges of my vision.

“Then why was there a plan B?”

“Just listen!” I yelled. Enough was enough already.

Apparently, Octo-Cat was just as fed up with me as I with him.“Well, jeez. You don’t have to yell,” he rasped with his signature snark.

“Octavius, please,” Grizabella interjected, scooting closer to him so that their furry bodies touched at the sides.

Thankfully—and probably just as Grizabella had suspected—this rendered the chatty tabby completely silent. Finally.

She nodded for me to continue with what I had to say.

“Most of the passengers are still asleep,” I explained, keeping a close eye on Octo-Cat to make sure he wouldn’t derail us yet again. “If the murderer is still on board, then he or she is definitely not just sleeping it off. That narrows our pool considerably. We couldn’t find any suspicious behavior when we simply walked through the cars, so I think our next step should be to add a little pressure.”

“Good plan. What did you have in mind?” Grizabella asked while Octo-Cat purred beside her.

“Nobody knows Rhonda’s dead except the people we’ve spoken with… and, well, I guess the killer knows, too. I say we pretend to have an urgent message for her and use that as an excuse to talk to the passengers who are awake.”

“But Mistress is dead. How can we have a message for her?”

“I know that, and we know that. But most of the people aboard don’t know that, so asking them won’t freak them out, right?”

Grizabella’s eyes shone bright as understanding swept over her. “Oh, yes!”

“So we’re just going to go up to each person we notice who’s awake and ask if they know where we can find Rhonda?” Octo-Cat asked, rejoining the conversation with a sappy grin stretched between his whiskers. Ahh, the power of love.

“Pretty much,” I said. “I’ll do the talking, obviously. And you guys keep all your senses peeled.”

Grizabella tilted her head to the side.“What does that—?”

“Human expression,” my cat translated with a giant roll of his amber eyes.

“Sorry,” I said with a chuckle. “You guys can smell changes in people’s hormones, right? So if someone were to get really stressed by my questions, you could tell… Yes?”

“Yeah, humans are super easy to read,” Octo-Cat responded haughtily. “Such simple creatures.”

I scowled at him, then turned back to the Himalayan with a smile. Finally, she was on my side, and it felt great.“Are we ready to do this?”

“Let’s.” She rose to her feet and waited for me to open the door into the next car for her. We’d made our way back to the very front of the train a few cars in front of the one that held my family’s seats.

“Excuse me,” I said to a woman who sat with a sullen looking teenager who was immersed in her phone. Probably not our killer, but I had to talk to everyone to avoid suspicion. “Do you know where I can find Rhonda Lou Ella Smith? I have an urgent message for her.”

“Nope,” she answered with a slight shake of her head. “I’m sorry. Good luck.”

I’m going to need it.

I talked to several more people, both men and women of all ages, but not a single person showed any sign of recognizing the name. I checked with the cats between each car, just to make sure they hadn’t found something.

They hadn’t.

We entered the car that held our seats, and I immediately spotted a problem that I’d forgotten we had. Our special writer friend Melvin Mann paced up and down the aisle, talking to himself and eliciting the stares of every single person as he did. No one here was sleeping. Not a single soul.

“Melvin, what are you doing?” I shouted, rushing toward him.

“Trying to figure out the murder, of course,” he told me, tapping a pen against the fingers on his other hand.

Someone cleared his throat across the aisle, and I laughed nervously.“Um, Mel. This isn’t the best time to plot out your next novel. These people are trying to sleep.” I laughed again and shoved him toward the end of the car, hoping and praying that our culprit hadn’t been sitting in that car while Melvin prattled on about all the pieces of evidence he’d either collected or overheard.

As we approached the vestibule, I rasped in his ear,“Go back to the car. Dan and my parents are there. They’ll get you caught up.” I was hoping they wouldn’t tell our resident loose cannon anything, but I needed to offer something to get him to fall in line.

“What car?” he asked, twisting toward me. A garish smile split his face as he realized. “Oh, the scene of the murder.”

I pushed him through the door.“Get out of here, and—for goodness’ sake—try to keep a low profile.”

“Hey, I’m a writer, not an actor.” He lifted a hand overhead and shook his finger at no one in particular. Not an actor, but he sure was a character.

I stood in the vestibule, watching to make sure he kept going toward the sleeper cars without upsetting any more of the passengers.

Grizabella paced and flicked her tail impatiently.“What now?”

“We keep going and hope for the best.” I thought back over the details of the night, then smiled. “He wasn’t pacing and muttering to himself when we passed through the first time, so he must have just started when the lights turned back on. Just to be sure, I’ll shoot my dad a text and ask him to collect Melvin and get him away from the rest of the passengers.”

My fingers moved over the keyboard on my phone. Eight percent battery now, but we had light, which made the dying phone far less of a problem that it was before.

“Now, let’s get on with our search,” I told the cats, pushing into the next car, more determined than ever to find the murderer before circumstances beyond my control—or more specifically, Melvin—ruined everything.

Chapter Fourteen

I’d asked so many people if they knew where we could find Rhonda that my voice stung from overuse. The corners of my mouth also hurt from all the forced smiles. The cats and I had already hit up all the cars between the front of the train and the dining car, which meant there were only a few more to cross before arriving at the sleeper cars, and only a handful of those to try before we ran out of people to question altogether.

C’mon. C’mon, please. We have to find something.

I took a few more steps down the aisle, then turned to an older woman with shoulder-length black hair and large brown eyes rimmed with thick lashes. I could tell she’d been pretty in her youth because she was still stunning even now. She wore a hooded sweatshirt that you didn’t often see women her age sporting, and she definitely didn’t look like the type of person who’d have associated with Rhonda Lou Ella Smith, unless she was also a cat enthusiast.

I smiled and took a deep breath, leaning closer to her as I spoke.“Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Rhonda Lou Ella Smith?” I asked pleasantly, widening my smile as I waited.

She frowned and mouthed,“Sorry” without actually making a sound. Respecting her sleeping seatmate, how thoughtful. I’d been far less considerate in my search, jostling several passengers from sleep unintentionally.

“We’ve got a live one here!” Octo-Cat bellowed.

“She knows something,” Grizabella confirmed in her melodic voice. “I can smell it all over her.”

Showtime.

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman who had already returned her attention to the paperback novel in her hands. “Are you sure you don’t know Rhonda? It’s really quite urgent.”

“No. Now please let me return to my reading,” she grumbled, then raised her book higher to block me out.

“She’s lying!” Grizabella shouted. “She’s lying!”

I pushed the book down and forced the woman to look me in the eye.“I’m sorry, but if you don’t know Rhonda, then why are you acting so nervous?”

“Nervous?” she asked, then laughed nervously. How convincing. “I’m not nerv—”

“No more lies!” Grizabella cried, jumping right onto the woman’s lap and unleashing a terrible hiss.

“G-G-Grizabella?” the woman stuttered. “What are you—?”

“So you do know her!” I widened my stance to block her into her seat in case she tried to make a run for it. I might be angering a violent criminal, but at least the train car was filled to the brim with witnesses. She wouldn’t be so bold as to try anything in front of them… Would she?

The woman set her book down without even bothering to adjust the bookmark.“What’s the message? Perhaps I can give it to her.”

“It’s really quite urgent. Would you come with me? The conductor’s been searching for anyone connected with Rhonda, because we need your help. Urgently.” Ugh. I needed to keep repeating urgent over and over again like it was some kind of magic passcode.

“But I thought you said you had a message for her?”

“Yes, and for you. Now will you join me, or should I call security?” I didn’t even know if this train had security, but the threat worked to get the woman out of her seat.

I surreptitiously texted my mom and asked her to meet me in the viewing car so we could escort the woman back to Rhonda’s room together. For all I knew, she was the killer and could try to take me out at the first opportunity.

As much as I trusted my cat partners to want to protect me, they were no match for a human with a weapon and a motive. I needed to keep her talking as I walked behind her and guided her toward the sleeper cars. Maybe she hadn’t figured out that I suspected her—or at least not yet.

“I’m Angie,” I explained. “The conductor asked me to keep an eye on Grizabella since I have a cat of my own with me on the train,” I yammered on. I needed to stop going on about the conductor every few minutes, but I didn’t know what the other train people were called and I wanted to sound official.

“Is Rhonda okay?” the woman asked, trying to look back at me over her shoulder as we continued to stumble forward.

“Oh, yes,” I lied, needing to get her somewhere private—and with backup—before sharing the truth. “Thank goodness we found you just in time. Say, how do you know her?”

“Oh, um, well, she’s my sister. Half-sister, actually,” she corrected herself immediately, then added, “We weren’t close.”

“I know how that goes,” I said with a smile in case she looked back again. I was an only child, but I would do anything I could to keep her talking and moving, anything to build up some kind of rapport, seeing as it could just save my life. “What’s your name?”

“Sariah Smith,” she mumbled. “Will this take long?”

“Almost there,” I promised as we finally headed into the viewing car. My mom was already there waiting.

“I know you,” Sariah said, stopping in her tracks and raising a hand to point at my mother. “You’re—”

Mom’s hand shot out in greeting. “Laura Lee, Channel Seven News, serving Blueberry Bay, the great state of Maine, and now the full Northeastern Seaboard.”

“I watch you on the news,” Sariah stuttered. “What are you doing here? Investigating a story?” She glanced back toward the rear exit, but Mom placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

I moved toward the other end of the car, but Sariah didn’t follow.

Mom jumped in to help out.“Yes, I’m investigating a story. And I need to speak with you, if you’ll just come with me.”

“Um, don’t I need to sign a waiver or something?”

“Nope. This one’s off the record. C’mon.” Mom shoved her perhaps a bit too forcibly into the next car.

“Almost there,” I assured her again, practically pulling her as Mom pushed from behind now.

“I don’t think I can—” Sariah grunted. I’d have felt bad had I suspected she was innocent in all of this, but as the cats had said, she reeked of guilt. Even I could practically smell it with my weak human olfactory sense.

“And we’re here,” Mom announced before Dad swung open the door to Rhonda’s room.

Sariah screamed the moment her eyes fell on Rhonda’s dead body. She tried to run, but Mom and I formed a barrier in the doorway, blocking her misguided attempt at escape.

Sariah sobbed, choked, and screamed again.“Oh my gosh, what happened to Rhonda? Help, help, help! Somebody get me out of here!”

“We need to shut her up,” Dad cried as Sariah continued to shout and shove at me and Mom. “What should we do?”

Melvin darted forward, a weapon held at waist height but disguised by his jacket. All I could see was an ominous bulge along with the manic rage splashed across his face, but from the way he postured, I was sure it had to be a gun under there.“Quiet, or I’ll give you a reason to be quiet.”

Oh my gosh, this was wrong on so many levels. A very big part of me wanted to tie Melvin up and stash him somewhere so he couldn’t cause any more problems.

But then Sariah stopped crying and started confessing everything.

Chapter Fifteen

“Everyone calm down,” Dad said in a patient, measured voice that must have been so hard to keep, given the current circumstances. He bravely stepped forward and inserted himself between Melvin and Sariah, daring either of them to continue acting out. “There’s no need for things to turn violent.”

Melvin stepped around dad and narrowed his gaze on Sariah.“There is, if she doesn’t start talking and fast.”

“That’s not ne—”

“He wasn’t supposed to hurt her!” Fat tears rolled down Sariah’s cheeks and onto her sweatshirt. “You have to believe me. I didn’t know he was going to hurt her.”

“Who?” I asked from the doorway, anxiety ripping the words from my throat. If Melvin shot at Sariah, the bullet would likely tear into me, too. I so did not feel like dying today.

“Who wasn’t supposed to hurt her?” I asked again when she failed to answer.

Our witness cried so hard she staggered forward, barely able to keep herself on her feet.

Mom draped Sariah’s arm over her shoulder and guided her over to the bed. “C’mon, sweetie. It’s okay. You’re safe with us.”

Melvin followed, his weapon still threatening from beneath his jacket.“That’s right. As long as you keep talking, then you have nothing to worry about.” I wanted to bonk him on the head. Couldn’t he see that he was terrifying everyone around him?

Dan twisted the lock on the door, then looked to my father for guidance, who crossed his arms over his chest and took up sentinel at the room’s one exit point.

It was like we were billiard balls. All of us suddenly rearranging, bouncing into new positions, staying near the edges of the room. I moved close to where Rhonda still lay splayed across the floor. That way, every time Sariah spoke to me, she’d be forced to glance upon her dead half-sister. It wasn’t to be cruel, but rather to keep her honest and remind her how much was at stake here.

Not just for her, either. For all of us.

“Who wasn’t supposed to hurt her?” I pressed again, keeping my voice kind and hopefully free of judgment.

Sariah sniffled and shook her head. Perhaps we needed a more indirect approach to ease her into talking.

“You know, I met her,” I said with a far-off smile, even though the past I was remembering had only happened several hours prior. “We sat together for a while in the dining car and talked cats.”

Mom handed Sariah a tissue from her purse, and she blew her nose into it.“That sounds like Rhonda all right.”

“I thought you weren’t close,” I pointed out, again trying my best not to sound accusing even though Sariah had for sure played some part in the crimes that had happened aboard this train tonight.

She shook her head and balled the tissue in her first.“We weren’t, but I follow her online. That’s how I recognized Grizabella.”

The cats. I hadn’t noticed where they’d gone.

“Over here,” my tabby called from near the bathroom, either reading my mind or sensing the worry that crept up on me when I realized I’d lost sight of him.

I turned toward him and smiled upon spotting him unharmed and unafraid.

Grizabella, however, stared at Sariah with fierce, unblinking eyes. She needed the answers, needed to know why this horrible thing had happened to her mistress.

“You said he wasn’t supposed to hurt her,” I reminded Sariah again, approaching my follow-up differently this time. “What was he supposed to do instead?”

Sariah shook her head and peered at me through red-rimmed eyes. Apparently, my sudden change in questioning had thrown her.“He was only supposed to take what’s ours. That’s it.”

“And what was that?”

“The necklace.”

The image of that beautiful piece of jewelry flashed in my mind’s eye. Pearls, gold, amazing craftsmanship, but worth killing for? Not to me.

“The family heirloom?” I asked.

“Yes, she was wearing it tonight. I saw her when she came off the train to speak with us at the Bangor station.”

That’s right. I knew I’d seen her on the platform. With Sariah here, all the pieces were finally starting to feel like they belonged to the same puzzle. Soon we may even be able to discern the picture. I suspected I knew what happened next but asked anyway. “What did you talk about?”

“We asked for the necklace back. She never should have gotten it.” Sariah balled both of her hands into fists, then let them go, looking at me with equal parts anger and sorrow.

“I’m guessing she said no.”

“He barely even got two words out before she turned away and ran back for the train.”

“Then what happened?” I asked.

All the others in the room remained quiet as Sariah and I continued our conversation. They all needed to hear this, too.

She turned to Mom and addressed her answer there.“He said that one way or another the necklace would be ours, and then we followed her onto the train. He knew she would say no, so we were already ready with the tickets.”

“And what was the next part of your plan? What were you supposed to do after she said no?”

“Not my plan. His. I was supposed to find a way to stop the train in the middle of the night so that he could pay her a visit and take the necklace back. Then we were going to meet in the viewing car and exit together from there.”

“But you’re still here,” I pointed out with raised eyebrows.

Sariah faced me once more.“Yes. He never showed up.”

Desperation clawed at the edges of my brain. I so badly wanted to know who the he in Sariah’s story was, but there were other details I needed to find out first—rather than risk her breaking down again.

“Why did you both want the necklace so badly?”

“It rightfully belonged to us. It had been passed down for generations, long before our ancestors ever settled in America. Not only is it worth a fortune, it has sentimental value, too.”

“So it’s a family thing, but you said yourself that Rhonda was family.” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited, hoping my words had the incendiary effect I wanted. If so, they could blow this whole thing open and finally get Sariah to reveal the identity of her mysterious partner, the he.

“No.” She closed her eyes and her cheeks turned red, but still she spoke. “Her family took everything from us. And it was a cold, hard slap to the face when Father gave the necklace to her instead of one of us.”

I didn’t say anything, hoping Sariah would volunteer more on her own. When she didn’t, someone else stepped in.

“How did her family hurt yours, sweetie?” Mom asked from her spot beside the sobbing witness. Most of her tears had dried up now, however, anger taking their place.

“When I was five, my father left to start a new family. He said he had fallen in love and the lady was pregnant, so he had no choice. But he did have a choice! He just didn’t choose us. He left and he took everything from us. All of the money and privilege that should have been our birthright went to the new family, went to Rhonda. So, when he told me his plan to get our necklace back, of course, I wanted to help. Wouldn’t you?”

“I understand where you’re coming from,” I said, nodding along. “I also believe that even though you hated Rhonda, you hadn’t planned for her to die.”

She straightened and sat taller on the bed. Some of the tension drained from her fists and tightly set jaw.

There, I’d given her something important. Now she had to help by providing that final piece we so desperately needed. “Can you do me one last favor and tell me whose plan it was? We need to know who hurt Rhonda so that we can make sure you and everyone else on this train stays safe.”

“He’s not going to lay a finger on me. I’ll kill him first,” Sariah said between clenched teeth, and I believed her.

“But who is he? Who’s he, Sariah?” I practically begged now.

“He is our brother. Jamison.”

Chapter Sixteen

All eyes were on Sariah, including mine.

“There,” she growled at Melvin, who still held his weapon at the ready. “I’ve told you everything I know, so how about you stop threatening me with that gun or knife or whatever you have in there?”

Melvin snickered and pulled the weapon from his jacket, causing us all to flinch as he tossed it onto the bed beside Sariah.“As they say, the pen is mightier than the sword.” The smug grin on his face showed just how clever he felt he’d been.

Sure enough, a gold-tipped fountain pen lay on the comforter, shining in the light cast down from overhead. A pen!

Crazy Melvin had proven useful, after all.

“Gotcha!” he cried, and I half-expected him to break out into an endzone-style victory dance.

A collective groan rose throughout the room.

Sariah sneered at the false weapon, then picked it up and threw it back toward Melvin.“Figures.”

“How did you stop the train?” Dad asked, pointedly ignoring Melvin.

The writer withered when he realized we wouldn’t spend the rest of the night applauding his clever ruse. But our investigation was far from over. We still hadn’t caught the killer.

“That’s easy for a mechanical engineer,” Sariah answered with a casual shrug.

“No one has been able to get the engine going again, but they were able to get power back,” Dan added from his place beside Dad.

Our witness chuckled wearily.“Lights, that’s electrical engineering. Not my area.”

Clearly, this woman was very educated. Being abandoned by a parent definitely sucked, but did she really end up having such a bad life? Were things truly bad enough for Jamison to murder Rhonda as a way of paying for their father’s sins? Everything in me screamed no.

My own family had a twisted backstory, one Mom and I had only recently discovered and still didn’t quite understand. But I would never in a million years hurt someone for answers—or for revenge.

I guess that’s why I was the P.I. and not the murderer. And thank goodness for that!

“Have you seen Jamison since the train stopped?” I asked, remembering my role.

“No. Like I said, he never turned up at our meeting spot. The jerk probably made a run for it without me.”

“He was probably trying to frame you for it,” Melvin pointed out. “That’s what I would do if I had to write a character like that. As a novelist, I mean.”

When still no one gave him the attention he craved, Melvin cleared his throat, then quieted again.

“We did find a bit of blood outside the train,” Dad offered, bringing all eyes to him.

Sariah sighed and fell back on the bed, making us all tense.“Well, then, there you go. Betrayed by both my siblings in one night. Yay me.”

“Sariah,” Mom said gently. “I don’t think Rhonda ever meant to hurt you. It’s not her fault, what happened with your family. Things were probably hard for her growing up, too.”

“She was lonely all the time,” Grizabella said softly from her spot by the bathroom. “My poor, poor mistress.”

Since Sariah couldn’t understand Grizabella’s words, she spoke over them. “Well, whatever the case, I’m sure the cops are on their way to arrest me, and meanwhile Jamison gets away with the whole thing.”

“He’s not going to get away with it,” I promised. “We know it was him, and I’m sure the police will agree.” We’d solved the murder. Catching the bad guy should be the easy part, right?

Sariah sat up and shook her head bitterly.“Yeah, but he’s gone. He got away.”

“Not necessarily,” Octo-Cat piped up as he crossed the room to stand at my side. “Remember how cats are superior to humans in pretty much every way?”

I wanted to respond to that—if only to set the record straight, lest he later claim I had agreed with him—but we had a room full of people who didn’t know my secret. Instead of asking him to explain himself, I widened my eyes at him, willing him to explain.

Thankfully, he understood.“Yeah, yeah, you don’t want to talk in front of the others. Anyway, cats are awesome. Cats are the best, and this cat can find that killer who’s on the loose.”

“Yes!” Grizabella cried in delight. “Yes, we can sniff him out. Brilliant idea, my darling.”

Octo-Cat became stock still, turning only at his neck to stare at the Himalayan with bright, beseeching eyes.“Your darling?”

She nuzzled him and purred. Everything about her softened.“And my hero.”

Octo-Cat melted like a giant slab of butter.“Oh, Grizabella. I’m so glad you love me back! I will devote all my lives to you. At least all the ones I have left. I will never let you down. I—”

“Will you help avenge my mistress?” Grizabella asked pointedly.

“Oh, yeah, baby.”

The cat soap opera playing out before me would have been cute under any other circumstances, but right now, we had a bad guy to catch.

“Sariah, I have an idea,” I said, eager to get on with it.

“Sure, it was your idea,” Octo-Cat scoffed, then immediately went back to cuddling and licking his new girlfriend.

“What I told you before about watching Grizabella because I have a cat, too, that was true. But I didn’t tell you that my cat is also a highly trained stunt cat. We were, uh, on our way down to Georgia to do some work on an upcoming film before all this happened. Anyway, Octavius here is extremely well trained, and I think if we give him something of Jamison’s, he could use it to track the scent and find our guy.”

Sariah studied Octo-Cat as if trying to decide whether he was up to the task. In the end she frowned and said,“Great thought, but Jamison’s probably made it pretty far by now. What’s the point?”

“Probably. But, then again, do you know how fast a cat can run?”

“I’m not really familiar with—”

“Up to thirty miles per hour,” Melvin interjected, waving his phone to show us he’d found the answer in record time.

Sariah quirked an eyebrow and glanced at Octo-Cat again.“Okay, that’s pretty fast, but how are you sure your cat will even stay on his trail? And aren’t you a little worried about sending him out there on his own? It sounds like he’s really valuable if he’s a celebrity and all that.”

“Well…” I pretended to hesitate, seeing as Sariah seemed to need a few more moments to get on board with the idea. “Let’s just say I trust him, and I know he can do this for us.”

“I’ve seen him in action before,” Mom said from her perch on the bed. “And she’s right, that cat is pretty incredible.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Octo-Cat said, waving his paw at his subjects.

Grizabella cooed and cuddled closer to his side.

Dad asked what we all needed to know.“So do you have something of Jamison’s or not?”

Chapter Seventeen

Sariah took off the hooded sweatshirt she wore, revealing a beautiful fitted blouse beneath.“This is his,” she said, tossing the sweatshirt to me, then reaching her arms up to hug herself and replace the lost warmth.

“Thanks. I’ll get him started on the scent outside. Everyone else stay here. He doesn’t work as well with a crowd.”

“Why not?” Grizabella asked, intertwining her tail with Octo-Cat’s in what had to be the feline version of footsie. “I love an adoring audience.”

He lifted his head and sniffed the air for no obvious reason.“She says things like that sometimes so the other humans don’t figure out she can talk to us.”

“Octavius!” I called, moving toward the door and making a clicking noise. “Here kitty!”

He groaned as he trotted after me.“Enough with the kitty already. You know I don’t like that.”

Grizabella followed us outside into the dark tunnel. Luckily, the now illuminated train cars cast enough light to save me from having to use my remaining battery on the flashlight function.

I set Jamison’s sweatshirt on the ground. “Can you get anything from this?” I asked my cat.

He took a big whiff of the fabric, then sneezed.“Whoo, boy. It’s got that lady’s stench all over it. There is a thing as too much perfume, honey.”

“A lady can never make too many efforts with her presentation,” Grizabella purred. Leave it to a D-list Instagram celebrity to side with vanity.

I bit my lip and said a silent prayer for patience. The thing about working with cats was that it would always be on their timetable.

“Can you smell him, too? Or is she too overpowering?” If this didn’t work, I had no idea what else we could do, especially since Sariah seemed to believe that her brother would have no trouble evading the authorities.

“Yeah, I got him, too.” Octo-Cat yawned and stretched each of his four legs, one by one—showing off for his lady friend, no doubt. “Let’s do this!”

She appeared to swoon at his heroic catliness. Whoo, boy, indeed.

“Wait.” I crouched down, so that I was closer to his height. “I don’t have a way to track you. We didn’t bring your pet GPS and my phone is going to die any minute. It’s dangerous, and you’re going it alone. Can you promise me—?”

“He’s not going alone.” Grizabella stood, fierce determination swirling in her blue eyes. “I’m going, too.”

“My love, I couldn’t possibly ask this of you. As Angela said, it’s dangerous. I’ve already injured one toe bean in pursuit of this investigation. I could never risk your lovely toe beans like that.” Octo-Cat nuzzled Grizabella, but she stepped away before he could make contact.

“Rhonda was my human. I owe this to her.” The Himalayan took a deep breath and then took off in an impossibly fast run. The only time I’d ever seen Octo-Cat move anywhere near that fast was on the rare occasion when he had the zoomies—and we weren’t allowed to talk about that.

“What a woman!” he said, taking one glance back at me before sprinting after her.

“But I don’t know how I’ll find you!” I called into the lonely tunnel, but it was too late. Both cats had already disappeared from view.

Please, please, be safe.

I turned back toward the train and found Dad waiting in the doorway.

“I wanted to give you some privacy in case you needed it,” he said, stepping down to join me on the gravel. “Is everything okay?”

I looked back down the tunnel longingly.“Yeah. I just worry about the dangerous things he gets himself into sometimes.”

Dad laughed.“Believe me, I know how that goes. Both you and your mom are going to put me in an early grave.”

I shivered, not wanting to think about my dad or anyone else dying. I’d already seen more than enough to last a lifetime. Some occupational hazards were harder to accept than others.

“We’ll do anything to take care of our kids. That’s what being a parent is about.” Dad’s voice was soft, kind. “And before you say anything, yes. A pet parent is still a parent.”

Octo-Cat would hate hearing himself referred to as my child, but sometimes it really felt as if he were. I knew Mom and Nan would move mountains to protect me, too. I’d always been loved, protected, valued…

And suddenly I knew that Dad’s words referred to so much more than their surface meaning. “Nan and my real grandparents,” I stated simply.

Dad nodded.“Just because you’re not blood, that doesn’t mean she isn’t your real family,” he said, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “She gave up so much to keep your mom safe, even though she didn’t know why at the time.”

“We still don’t know why.” I wanted to know so badly for myself, for my mom, but more than anything, for Nan who had lived her whole life having no idea why this strange, scary, and even wonderful thing had happened to her.

Dad chuckled again.“Between you and your mom? You’ll figure it out in no time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s to always bet on my girls.”

I wrapped my arms tight around him. Even though we’d never been very close, I’d never had to doubt his love for me.

“This whole trip has been a lot,” I told him once we released our embrace. “I just don’t know if I have the energy for two weeks meeting the family now.”

“Then we’ll go home. Just as soon as we can get off this danged train, anyway.” He glanced around, then chuckled again. The tension lessened with each sound of my dad’s laugh. It was one of my safe places. “Well, you know what I mean. As soon as we’re out of this tunnel and allowed to officially disembark.”

“Won’t they be mad, though? The family in Georgia?” As much as this entire situation wrung my heart out like a soapy dishrag, I was still excited to meet them, to see our family grow despite the unusual circumstances. Could I really risk ruining that?

Dad shook his head and smiled reassuringly.“We’ve waited this long to meet them. Heck, we didn’t even know they existed until a few weeks ago. It can wait—they can wait—until you’re rested and ready.”

“That’s good. Because I really need to get home and be with Nan,” I said, desperate to be reunited with my favorite person. Nan had raised me. She’d become my very best friend, and I just didn’t feel normal without knowing she was nearby.

“I know you do,” Dad said, and we hugged again. “I know you do.”

Chapter Eighteen

Just over half an hour later, the police arrived and swept through the train. They kicked us out of Rhonda’s room to secure the scene. While two officers investigated the body, another officer took Mom, Dad, me, Sariah, Dan, and Melvin to the viewing car to keep an eye on us while a detective questioned us one by one outside.

“I hadn’t met Rhonda before the train, no,” I assured the detective, but I could sense the suspicion lingering in her eyes.

She looked down and referenced her notebook. I had to wonder how well she could actually see in the dim light of the tunnel.

“Then why did you spend nearly two hours with her in the dining car?” she asked.

And I answered with a shrug.“Just being friendly.”

“Angela! Angela!” Octo-Cat bellowed in the distance.

“Did you hear that?” the detective asked me, tilting her head to listen.

“Angela! Angela!” he cried again. To the detective, his words probably sounded like a horrible caterwauling.

“Yes, I think it’s my cat,” I said, equally excited and afraid of what news he would bring.

“Strange noise for a cat to make,” the detective observed.

“Angela! Angela!” my cat cried again, growing closer and closer to where we stood. A few moments later his fuzzy body hurtled into mine, and he screamed again. “Angela! Angela!”

“Stand back, that animal could be dangerous!”

“He’s just my cat. See.” I scooped Octo-Cat up and cuddled him to my chest to show her he meant no harm.

He panted heavily, which he never did. The poor guy must have been running for a very long time—or be very, very stressed. I was hoping for the former.

“Can we get him some water?” I asked her as his panting continued unchecked.

“No… time,” he wheezed, then hacked, then tried to speak again. “Griz… abella. We… have to… go to her!”

The detective studied me carefully.“Ma’am, is everything okay?”

Ma’am? I was younger than she was. Okay, not important right now. I needed to figure out my next step, and I needed to do it in a way that didn’t raise suspicion.

Earlier that night I’d told Dan, Sariah, and Melvin that I was a celebrity pet trainer as an excuse for setting Octo-Cat on the trail. And now it was time to take on another false persona with the detective. I just hoped she would buy it.

I swallowed hard and then raised my eyes to meet her questioning gaze head on.“I know this may seem a bit unorthodox, but I’m a psychic, you see, and I believe the victim’s ghost is telling me where to find her killer.”

She placed a hand on her hip.“Her ghost?”

“Yes.” Sorry, Rhonda, but this is the best way to catch him. “Rhonda says he’s moved quite a way from the train. We’ll need a vehicle to get to him.”

“Yes, good!” Octo-Cat cheered. His words seemed to be coming more easily now. “I can take you… to her. To them.”

The detective tipped her chin and quirked an eyebrow.“So you need a police escort?” she asked slowly, either to mock me or to make sure she understood.

“I know it’s crazy, but—”

“Let’s go,” the detective said, surprising me with her sudden agreeableness. “Our department has been known to work with psychics from time to time, and right now you’re the best lead we’ve got. The cruiser’s about half a mile that way.” She pointed down the tunnel, then turned backto me. “Try anything funny, though, and I won’t hesitate to make an arrest.”

When I nodded my consent, she took off in the direction she’d pointed earlier. It was the opposite way from the path Octo-Cat had taken to return to us.

I followed, keeping Octo-Cat in my arms because I could tell he needed the rest. While I grew more tired, he regained some of his strength.

“We found him,” he explained as my feet scrambled for purchase on the uneven terrain. “And Grizabella was marvelous. She scratched him up real good. He threw her, and I think she may have gotten hurt. But she wouldn’t leave his side. She sent me back to get help while she continued to trackthe bad guy.”

Well how about that? Grizabella had proven to be the hero, after all.

I just hoped she was okay from the injury she sustained during her fight with Jamison. I hated not being able to comfort Octo-Cat while we were in the presence of the detective, but I had to believe he understood that I would do everything I could for both Grizabella and Rhonda.

At last we reached the end of the tunnel and broke out into the open sky. The sun had just begun to rise, infusing the clouds with celestial fire—beautiful and eerie at the same time. The cruiser sat facing the tunnel, and the detective and I both bolted for it.

I climbed in the back, just in case I was still a suspect. We’d already lost so much time, and I couldn’t cost us anymore until I knew that Grizabella was safe, and Jamison had been apprehended.

“You can sit up front, you know,” the detective said, studying me in the rear-view mirror. A smile crept across her face as she spoke. So maybe I wasn’t a suspect, after all.

“I can’t smell anything from in here,” Octo-Cat informed me from the footwell. Either the detective hadn’t noticed I’d brought him along or didn’t really mind.

“I’m fine back here,” I assured her, buckling in for what was sure to be a wild ride. “But could you please roll down the windows? My, uh, powers work better when I’m one with nature.”

She nodded and lowered both of the front windows.

“Ahh, that’s better. They’re this way.” Octo-Cat moved his body to the car’s left.

“Let’s start by going left,” I told the detective.

The engine roared to life, and we were off.

“How fast should I be going?” she asked, and I had no idea what to tell her.

Octo-Cat moved to the right of the footwell.“This way, but not too much this way.”

“Make a right, but not a full right,” I instructed, ignoring her earlier question, focusing on what I did know instead of what I didn’t.

She guided the cruiser in the direction I’d indicated.

“Too far. Too far!” Octo-Cat cried and moved back toward the left.

“Um, less right than that,” I said. “Bring it back to the center a little.”

Man, it was hard to give driving directions when there were no roads and I had no idea where we were actually going. Still, I trusted my cat, and I knew he’d get us there one way or another.

“Perfect,” he said after the detective had finished her course correction. He hopped onto the bench seat beside me and then climbed onto my lap. “Now straight on to my Grizabella.”

Chapter Nineteen

We drove for a good twenty minutes before I finally spotted movement on the horizon.

Octo-Cat noticed her at the exact same time as me. He screeched and dug his claws into my lap.“She’s there! My beautiful Grizabella! We’ve found her!”

Sure enough, the Himalayan trotted across the landscape ahead. Her beautiful fur appeared almost ghastly in the soft morning light and her once perfect gait now fell unevenly, but she was alive and still moving forward. I had to admire her determination to see this through.

Even though she’d seemed more than a bit spoiled when I first met her, she was a good cat. A really good cat.

“Suspect sighted.” The detective jolted her cruiser forward even faster than before, then veered to a stop.

“Tell Rhonda’s ghost she did a good job,” she told me before racing outside to chase the man hobbling down the hill.

Octo-Cat sprinted through the open door after her, but rather than following the detective, he turned back the way we’d come. “My darling! My darling!” he cried.

As much as I wanted to help, I stayed put in the back of that cop car and sent a quick text to my parents in a group chat: We found Jamison. Detective is apprehending him right now. All is good.

And with that, my battery finally gave out, rendering my phone useless.

Less than five minutes later, the detective returned, dragging a handcuffed man along with her.“Get to the front, psychic,” she barked at me.

As soon as I got out, she shoved Jamison in. For a moment, my eyes met his and I was surprised to see that they weren’t cold or calculating. Instead, they appeared soft, kind, not so unlike my father’s. A smattering of freckles on his cheeks and nose gave him a boyish appearance. Bloody scratches covered his arms, and his shirt had even been slashed through, thanks, no doubt, to Grizabella’s attack.

This guy didn’t look like a killer at all, and yet I had no doubt he’d done the deed.

“Meet me outside the tunnel,” the detective murmured into her radio as she brought the police cruiser back to life.

“Wait!” I shouted, panic rising in my chest. “My cat!”

“I’m bringing the witness back, then taking the suspect in,” the detective continued on, ignoring me completely.

The cruiser hadn’t picked up much speed yet, so I swung open the door, unbuckled my seatbelt, and prepared to jump. Seeing what I was up to, she hit the brakes hard, jerking me clear out of the car.

I fell to the cold ground, landing on my back in such a way that all the air whooshed out of my lungs. Ouch.

Despite the nagging pain, there was no time to waste. I was okay, and I had to make sure the cats were, too. I sat up in a hurry, wincing from the pain of making such a sudden movement.

“Oh, Angela,” Octo-Cat said with a light-hearted chuckle as he and Grizabella approached from nearby. Despite her limp and obvious fatigue, they fell into perfect step beside each other. “I may be a stunt cat, but you are definitely not a stunt human.”

I couldn’t tell whether he was just giving me a hard time or if he actually believed the lie I’d said about him earlier. Knowing him, I’m sure he believed every word of it.

“You were very brave,” the Himalayan told me with an approving nod.

“But not as brave as you, darling,” Octo-Cat cooed in that special lovestruck voice he reserved expressly for his new girlfriend. “You were marvelous. Miraculous, even.”

She giggled, and I pushed myself back to my feet with more difficulty than I would have liked. Ouchie ouch ouch.“C’mon, guys. Let’s get back to our ride.”

I let myself back in through the passenger side and both cats leaped up to join me.

The detective did not look happy.“That stays between us,” she said in a low growl. “I’m already going to get a hard time for consulting a psychic on this case. The last thing I need is for the guys at the station to hear about you hurling yourself from the car before we even hit ten miles per hour.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. Turns out you’re not the only one who can bend the truth a little to get the job done.” She glanced at Octo-Cat, then back toward me and winked.

My jaw hit my chest. Not really, but whoa.

What? How could she possibly…?

No, it didn’t matter. Even though I had no idea how she’d figured it out, I knew my secret would be safe with the detective.

By the time we made it back to the tunnel—and thus the train—the sun hung high in the sky and the day was alive with energy. The detective’s partner waited with Mom and Dad outside the tunnel.

When they saw me get out of the cop car, they ran forward. Mom hugged me from the left, and Dad hugged me from the right.

“Why are you all dirty?” Mom swatted at my pants, trying to brush the mud and dirt away. I glanced down and saw just how messy I’d gotten as a result of my fall from the cruiser.

Oh, well. Clothes could be cleaned or, if needed, replaced. What we’d all just been through together was worth so much more.

“It’s a long story,” I hedged. “What time is it, anyway?” I asked, suddenly feeling the weight of fatigue washing over me. I’d only gotten a few hours of sleep sitting in the viewing car before this latest murder mystery had consumed the rest of the night and early morning hours.

“Why don’t you check your phone?” Dad asked with a smirk.

“I can’t because it—” I stopped and laughed sarcastically when I realized his joke. My parents were never going to let me live my low phone battery down.

“It’s about seven thirty,” Mom said, stifling a yawn of her own. “Dad told me you were thinking about heading home instead of finishing our trip down to Larkhaven.”

Guilt washed over me. Mom had really been looking forward to this trip, and now I’d ruined it for her. No, this was important. I could summon strength and mental fortitude from somewhere. “Yeah, but we don’t have to if—”

Mom shook her head and smiled.“I think it’s a great idea. I’ll call the family in a couple of hours and let them know. Hopefully, by then the techs will have us moving again. We heard they were bringing in a new engine to take us back to the nearest station.”

I met my mom’s smile with one of my own. “Smart. Even if they continue, I bet nobody’s going to want to keep traveling aboard that murder train. At least I wouldn’t want to.”

We stood together, watching the police work, saving up our energy for the half-mile walk back through the tunnel. I watched as Octo-Cat tended to his girlfriend’s wounds in a nearby patch of grass.

Sure, their love story was still on its first chapter, but already he was a changed cat. My heart ached, knowing that we may never get the chance to see her again, to even know where she’d ended up.

“You’re worried about her. Aren’t you?” Dad asked, motioning toward the Himalayan with his chin.

“She loved Rhonda, and now she has no idea what’s going to happen to her next.” An idea struck me, allowing a brief burst of hope to fill me up. “Do you think Sariah will take her?”

“I think Sariah will go to prison as an accessory to murder,” Mom said with a sigh. “Or at least for tampering with the train. Such a shame.”

“Then what about Grizabella?” I asked, trying not to cry before we knew for sure what would happen. She’d literally lost everything when Rhonda died, and like Octo-Cat, she was accustomed to having only the best things in life. Would a new owner know how to care for her properly?

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Mom said, kissing the side of my head. “We can only hope for the best.”

She was right. Grizabella’s fate was out of our hands for now, but I would definitely be following up with the police every single day until they could tell me what had happened to her.

I owed it to Octo-Cat. I owed it to Grizabella, and I owed it to that sweet lady on the train who had only wanted a friend to keep her company for a couple hours.

Chapter Twenty

Three weeks later

After a quiet Thanksgiving at home, life returned to its usual insanity. Nan crafted a custom advent calendar, which guided us through a series of over-the-top holiday festivities. A simple trip to get the pets’ photos taken with Santa Claus had somehow managed to turn into a fresh murder investigation, and it was honestly even crazier than the one we’d looked into on the train.

Despite that little hiccough, Nan kept Octo-Cat, Paisley, and me busy practically every second of every day, and for that, I was incredibly appreciative. She was my nan, my favorite person in the whole wide world, and whatever the circumstances that had brought us together, I would always be grateful to have her in my life.

Yes, my little corner of the world had grown by leaps and bounds, but Nan would always be my original number one. That was one thing I knew could never change.

“Quick, quick!” Octo-Cat, a close number two, cried as he scratched at the door to my personal library, begging to be let in. “We won’t have much time before she makes us celebrate again.”

I laughed when he shuddered at the word celebrate as if it were the filthiest curse word he could possibly imagine.

Once inside the library, I booted up my laptop and logged into my Instagram account. Octo-Cat had begged for his own account, but as his parent and someone who wanted to protect our secret, I had insisted he use mine instead.

“My love!” he cried when a brand-new photo of Grizabella popped into our feed. She wore a Santa hat and an enormous scowl on her flat feline face. Peak cat.

Octo-Cat purred and rubbed his side against my computer screen, which is precisely the reason we no longer used his iPad to access Instagram. He couldn’t help but snuggle her image, but always threw a fit when doing so accidentally booted him from the app.

I clicked heart on the photo and sat back in my seat. I knew this could take a while based on past experience.“Well, what would you like us to comment on this one?” I pressed when he did little more than purr and rub up against the screen for a solid five minutes.

“Tell her she’s beautiful and I love her and miss her and cannot wait until fate brings us together again,” he gushed, pausing briefly to actually look at the photo before he resumed all the rubbing.

I groaned at the melodrama but complied—very thankful I’d made my profile private. I was also thankful that I knew for a fact Grizabella’s new owner read all the comments to her. Otherwise I would never agree to be these two lovebirds’ go-between.

Still, no matter how embarrassing this all was for me, I loved how happy it made them both to keep up their long-distance relationship. Sometimes they even video-chatted and took naps together. It was super sweet, actually.

As for that new owner?

She was a friend of Rhonda’s from the show cat circle. Christine. And even though they hadn’t been close outside of the competitions, they’d always made sure to grab a meal together whenever they wound up in the same town—and that was as good as any friend poor, lonely Rhonda ever had.

Christine was a good one, though. She loved cats every bit as much as Rhonda had, which meant that Grizabella now had a host of new sisters, also award-winning show Himalayans.

Unfortunately, the injury Grizabella had sustained when Jamison threw her in their fight meant that her show days were over, but even though I knew she’d never admit it, I suspected Grizabella was happy to retire and live out the rest of her days as a well-loved pet and a very minor Instagram influencer.

I typed the comment: Octavius says,“She’s beautiful and he loves her and misses her and cannot wait until fate brings them together again.”

Christine and everyone else thought I was just being an overly dramatic pet owner with these comments, and I was happy to let them believe that. After all, I really did love my cat bunches.

Right after I pushed enter, the doorbell chimed to the tune of“Memories” from the Broadway show Cats. I hadn’t realized Grizabella was named for the play, but Nan made the connection immediately and made sure we mixed in plenty of Andrew Lloyd Weber scores to complement our constant string of Christmas carols.

“I’ll be right back,” I told the swoony tabby.

He didn’t even acknowledge me as I dismissed myself, such was the enormity of a new photo from his lady love—even though we got at least one of them every single day. Young love, adorable.

“Coming!” I called as I bounded down the stairs. The stained-glass windows that hung on either side of the entryway cast rainbow shapes against the hardwood floor but did not reveal the identity of the person waiting on the porch.

When I flung the door open, an unfamiliar young woman stood waiting with a suitcase at her side.

“Cousin!” she cried and reached out to hug me.

I awkwardly accepted her embrace, and upon pulling away, I realized that I did recognize her.

Mostly because her face was almost an exact replica of mine. We were also both tall and curvy. The most noticeable differences between us were the fact that her hair was so blonde it was almost white while mine took on more of a sandy brown hue. Also, I wore an awesome 80s inspired outfit while she sported a prim cardigan buttoned up to the neck and a flowing peasant skirt that reached down to her ankles. A giant gold filigree locket hung halfway down her chest, reminding me of Rhonda’s heirloom necklace.

She bit her lip as she studied me, then started to panic, her skin turning bright red as she did.“Oh, no. You are Angie, aren’t you? Oh my gosh. If you’re not, I’m so embarrassed right now.”

“I am Angie,” I said with a friendly smile. “I just didn’t realize anyone was coming.”

“My aunt told your nan and… Let me guess, she didn’t relay the message?”

“Sounds like your aunt and my nan have a lot in common,” I said with a laugh. “Please, please come in.”

I took her suitcase and set it by the stairs, then guided her to the kitchen in search of snacks. Snacks made everything better, especially Nan’s homemade baked goods.

My cousin accepted a bottle of Evian and twisted the cap off at once.“You must have gotten quite the shock. I’m sorry nobody told you I’d be coming for the rest of the year.”

This made me pause in my search.“The rest of the year?”

“Well, I mean it’s just a couple more weeks, right? Sixteen days total, actually, just like you were supposed to have for your trip to Larkhaven. I couldn’t wait to meet you, so Aunt Linda suggested I come to you instead. Only I flew instead of taking the train. I mean, who would want to takea train when there are so many faster ways to travel these days?” She giggled and made a funny face. If I hadn’t already decided I liked her, that would have definitely done the trick.

I laughed again as I handed my guest one of the chocolate chip banana muffins that Nan had baked just yesterday.“Well, I may not have known you were coming, but I’m really happy you’re here. This may be a teensy bit awkward, but… Um, what’s your name?”

“Oh, gosh! Sorry! Mags McAllister here,” she said, hugging me tight again and speaking around a mouth full of muffin. “Your long-lost cousin from Larkhaven, Georgia, and I can already tell that we’re going to get along just great!”

Warmth spread through me as I relaxed into her embrace.

I’d never had a sister, brother, or cousin with Mom being an only child—a fact I constantly bemoaned growing up. But now with Mags here, I sensed how important this new cousin would become to me.

And even though I didn’t quite know it yet, the next couple weeks would show just how important, indeed.

8.5. MEOWY CHRISTMAS MAYHEM

1

Hi, my name’s Angie Russo, and I can talk to animals. Yes, talk to themand understand when they talk back. Now before you write me off as some crazy person, let me tell you that I never asked for this special ability of mine.

In fact, it took me quite by shock… Um, literally.

That’s right. My strange power first surfaced when I got electrocuted by a crummy old coffee maker. It happened at the firm where I used to work as a paralegal, right in the middle of a will reading. And when I awoke from that zap, I found a striped cat sitting on my chest and making some pretty meanjokes at my expense.

As soon as I realized the voice was comingfrom him and he realized that I could understand what he said, that cat recruited me to help solve the murder of his late owner.

Well, we solved it all right, and then many more crimes after that. In fact, the two of us now have our own private investigation firm, which my mom and my nan have rather unfortunately dubbed Pet Whisperer P.I.

I don’t want anyone to know my secret, so we pretend it’s just a marketing gimmick. Still, we haven’t had any paying clients since opening, and the cheesy name could very well be the reason for it.

We’re not giving up, though.

Nobody’s hired us directly, but we still manage to stumble into fresh cases on a near monthly basis—from murder to embezzlement and everything in between, we find the bad guys of Blueberry Bay and make sure they don’t get away with their crimes.

And as nice as it would be to get paid for the services we provide, my cat’s trust fund covers all our expenses and then some, including the schmancy New England manor house we call home. The property belonged to Octo-Cat’s previous owner—yeah, the murdered one—and he wasn’t willing to give it up to live in my low-budget rental, so, well, here we are.

Octo-Cat’s full name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardoyada yada yada… Fulton Russo, Esquire. Seriously, the guy has like eight names, thus the shortened moniker. He has his own iPad, only drinks Evian, and is pretty much spoiled in every single way possible. Still, I love the guy and wouldn’t trade him for the world.

We also live with Nan, my eccentric grandmother who happens to be a former Broadway actress, one who refuses to put her glory days behind her. A few months ago, she adopted a sweet little tricolor Chihuahua from the local animal shelter and dubbed the tiny dear Paisley. We all had a rough go at first, but now Octo-Cat and Paisley are good friends—probably because it’s quite easy for him to boss around a dog that’s less than half his size.

Just further proof of his diva catittude.

Nan, for her part, certainly doesn’t help matters by playing right into his paw. For instance, last Christmas Octo-Cat and I put in a brief appearance at our extended family gathering, then headed home to watch old movies on TV until bedtime. This year, Nan has insisted we whip out the elaborate advent calendar she designed during her community wood-working class.

And there aren’t small gifts or chocolates waiting for us inside, either. That would be far too ordinary for my whacky grandmother.

As Nan explains it, each tiny door has a rolled-up paper scroll behind it, and each paper scroll has a whole“experience” outlined for the day. This means we are celebrating Christmas proper for twenty-five whole days, and I’m already exhausted just looking at the giant three-dimensional calendar—let alone thinking about what might be waiting for us inside…

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My nan never turned down any excuse to live large, so naturally she had a special fondness for the holidays. This year, however, she’d taken her normal over-the-top nature to hilariously new heights.

And she’d dragged me right along with her.

“Now this is the life,” Octo-Cat said, stretching his paws contentedly before him as he watched me and Nan flutter around the living room, hanging decoration after decoration with no end in sight.

Paisley stayed right at Nan’s heels wherever she went, which was good because Nan had the grace not to trip over the tiny ball of wagging fur. If she’d been glued to me, I would have definitely injured the both of us by now.

“Isn’t there something we can have the cat do?” I asked my grandmother while she rummaged about in a giant storage container made of bright pink plastic. “He’s enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, so now I’mthe cat?”The tabby rolled on his side and rubbed his head on the couch with apparent satisfaction.“You need to work on your insults, Angela. Oh, poor me. I’m God’s gift to the Earth. I’m sooo offended.” He let out a wicked chuckle, enjoying his role far too much.

“Please,” I begged Nan as I raised my hands in supplication. “I know you can’t understand him, but he needs to be put in his place.”

Nan pulled away from the garland she’d festooned with ribbons and tinsel, then shot me a mischievous grin. “Well, in that case, I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm to give him one of his gifts a bit early.”

“Gifts?” I cried. “No, don’t spoil him more than he already is.”

She just winked and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. When she returned, she carried a medium brown box with the telltale Amazon smile splattered across two of its sides.

“The box is part of the gift,” she explained, “but the main thing is what’s inside. I made it.” She opened the top flaps of the box and set it down beside Octo-Cat on the couch.

Of course, he shot me a quick smirk, then immediately jumped inside.“This box fits me perfect! How did you know, you old girl?” He purred as he padded whatever was inside in an effort to make himself even more comfortable, even more pampered.

“Hold on, you silly kitty!” Nan plucked him out of the box and put him back onto the couch cushion, then lifted a small red and green item from inside and held it up to show me. “What do you think, dear?”

I squealed, clapped, and then lifted my hands over my mouth—so enormous was my pleasure upon seeing the second part of my cat’s early Christmas present.

Nan wasted no time in pulling the handknit garment over Octo-Cat’s head and then pushed his front legs through. The gift was even better with him wearing it. Truly, it was the ugliest Christmas sweater I’d ever laid eyes on, and I was one hundred percent here for it.

Thick red and green stripes offset a neckline outfitted with at least a dozen little golden bells hanging from short yellow triangles of fabric. The body of the sweater also sported a knitted likeness of Octo-Cat wearing a Santa Hat and looking downright jolly.

The real live version of the cat in front of me looked nowhere near as happy. Half of his face was caught up in a grimace with one tiny tooth poking through. The other half was wide with horror, humiliation—really all the best holiday moods.

“Well, what does our guy think?” Nan asked, hugging the rankled tabby to her face and making squishy kissy sounds in his ear.

I wasted no time in making my reply, keeping my eyes on Octo-Cat the whole time.“He thinks this is wonderful. So wonderful that he’d love to have a special outfit to wear forevery season,” I said, not breaking eye contact but having a very hard time maintaining a straight face.

“That can most certainly be arranged.” Nan kissed Octo-Cat again and then set him back on the couch.

“I hate you,” he ground out before stepping back into the box and turning in several tight circles before he finally settled in a position, one that faced away from us both. Despite the crick in my neck from hanging dozens of decorations overhead, I ended that night feeling incredibly nice.

If every day on Nan’s advent calendar held as much joy as this one, it would certainly be a Christmas to remember…

2

Nan’s quirky calendar kept us very busy the entire first half of the month. On December second, we drove over to Glendale’s highest summit and went sledding… even though there wasn’t yet any snow to speak of. Definitely an adventure, especially considering we brought the pets along.

On the third, we went Christmas caroling downtown. The day after that, we literally roasted chestnuts on an open fire. I have a nasty new burn on my hand to prove how wellthat went.

But did that slow Nan down even one iota? Of course not.

We went on to handcraft Christmas cards to send to our extended family, the folks around town, and her many, many friends across the country and abroad. We also went to a different local church or synagogue every Sunday morning, cooked a truly astonishing number and variety of cookies, and made a very generous donation to the nearest food bank.

It had already been a holiday to remember, and we hadn’t even done the traditional family gathering and gift exchange yet. Lucky for us, Nan was long since retired and my new P.I. business still hadn’t earned its first client. That’s probably a big part of why all this seasonal merrymaking occupied so much of our days.

And if anything, she still seemed to be ramping up.

“Kill me,” Octo-Cat pleaded as I stuffed him into his handknit holiday sweater, then topped it off with the neon green pet harness he loathed.

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” I promised dismissively, even though I knew this one would take him a while to recover from.

“That’s a lie, and you know it!” After I set him back on the floor, he took a few shaky steps and then threw himself over in a dramatic huff. “I’d rather die than suffer the humiliation of this ensemble—and out in public, no less,” he moaned. “What if other cats see me?”

This was the first time I’d heard my tabby worry about what other cats might think of him, but I decided not to tease him since he was obviously already feeling so down. Besides, when the other cats learned that his best friend was a shivering five-pound Chihuahua, they’d have more than enough material to tease him straight through this life and into the next.

“The other cats won’t be paying any attention to you,” I said encouragingly. “They’ll probably be so embarrassed and agitated that they won’t notice anyone but themselves… and possibly the nearest exit.”

Octo-Cat let out a low, rumbling growl that sounded so disheartened, I almost called the whole thing off.

“Would it help if I wore something embarrassing, too?” I offered with a hopeful smile.

A pained expression crossed his face, causing me to wonder if cats really could die from embarrassment. I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive myself if that happened, regardless of the fact he still had four lives left—per his own count.

He wagged his tail vigorously, then paused and took a deep breath before answering.“Marginally,” he said.

My smile grew quicker than the Grinch’s heart as I marched toward the closet and pulled out a white party dress patterned with tiny Santa Claus heads and a green scarf with a jingle bell print.

He watched me dress with that special disinterest only cats seem to possess, then flicked his tail a few times and said,“Honestly, now I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Good,” I answered with a wink. “That means Nan will love it then.”

Sure enough, when we headed downstairs, we found Nan and Paisley ready and waiting for us, wearing perfectly matched outfits. How she managed to find something that was equally unflattering to both her and her dog was a mystery to me. Let’s just say there was a lot of faux fur trim and shimmering tinsel and even mistletoe headbands.

My little lovable disasters. So sweet.

“See,” I leaned down and whispered to Octo-Cat. “You’re the most stylish one out of all of us.”

He scoffed.“Like that’s hard to do with this bunch.”

“Let me guess,” Nan said as she fiddled with the draping on my scarf. “A certain cat is complaining.Again.”

I shrugged.“Well, he’s nothing if not consistent.”

Even though Nan couldn’t understand the animals when they talked, she’d heard enough of my side of the conversation these past two weeks to know that a certain member of our eclectic little family was far less enthusiastic than the others.

“Look at me, Mommy!” Paisley the Chihuahua called, drawing my attention to her wagging tail and happy face. “Do I look pretty?”

Octo-Cat stalked over to her and said,“You look like something straight out of—”

“A holiday fashion magazine!” I finished for him. “So, so pretty, sweetie!”

Nan lifted Paisley in her arms, then grabbed her car keys from the hook by the door, glanced back over her shoulder, and cried,“Let’s do this thing.”

Of course, we’d been taking her little red sports coupe everywhere this month even though it was a bit cramped. She’d added antlers and giant googly eyes to turn the normally stylish vehicle into a giant likeness of Rudolph the red-everything’d reindeer.

It was about a half-hour drive to the pet supplies store in Dewdrop Springs, and by the time we arrived, the modest store was practically filled to bursting with locals from all over Blueberry Bay and their furry, feathery, or scaly counterparts.

We’d all shown up for one very important reason: to get our pets’ pictures taken with Santa Claus. Octo-Cat still didn’t know this part, and I preferred to keep it a secret from him as long as possible. That plan went out the window the very second we stepped through the door, however.

Officer Bouchard, our favorite local police officer with a secret soft spot for his two rescue cats, came rushing over to greet us.“Well, don’t you four look photo ready,” he exclaimed with a merry chuckle that could rival the man in red’s.

“Angela,” Octo-Cat drawled, turning around to face me and tangling himself in the tacky green harness in the process. “What does he meanphoto ready?”

“I, um—” I stopped myself. Sure, I could have pretended to be speaking with Nan or Officer Bouchard as I answered my cat’s question, but the mixed company provided the perfect excuse not to engage with my crabby tabby. Our friendly neighborhood cop didn’t know my secret—most people didn’t, as a matter of fact—and I intended to keep it that way as long as I possibly could.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met your cats before,” I said, nodding toward the carrying case he held in each hand. “Are these them?”

He beamed proudly and lifted the case on the left so Nan and I could see the sleek black cat inside.“This is Shadow,” he said before lowering the first case and raising the other. “And this is Ghost.”

The second cat was also all black but had gorgeous long fur and little white tips on his paws.“I don’t want to be here,” she said in an alluring feminine voice.

“Tell me about it,” Octo-Cat answered her with another drawn-out sigh.

“Now isn’t that cute?” the officer said, looking from one cat to the next. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were saying hello.”

“Ha, right!” I said perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, then thanked my lucky nativity star that hedidn’t know any better…

3

The door swung open behind us, almost knocking me off my feet. Well, that’s what we got for starting a conversation right next to the entrance of a busy establishment.

“Merry Christmas!” sang Mr. Gable—the owner of Glendale’s finest jewelry store who also served as the head of our downtown council—offering hugs all around. In his arms, he held a lop-eared rabbit with smoky gray fur. Its little nose twitched with curiosity as it tried to burrow deeper into its owner’s embrace.

“What a cutie!” Nan cooed, reaching a hand toward the small, scared animal, then changing her mind and drawing it back when she saw just how terrified the poor animal appeared. “What’s her name?” she asked instead.

“E.B.,” Mr. Gable revealed with a proud papa grin. He carefully extracted the small bundle of fur from his armpit and placed her hindlegs on his forearm, using his other arm to hug her to his chest. “Short for Easter Bunny. My sister bought this little girl for her grandkids’ Easter basket.Three days later, the kids got sick of her and their mother got tired of the mess, so E.B. ended up with me. We haven’t looked back since.”

“Well, she’s darling,” Nan said, shaking her head and letting out a slow tsking sound. “Even if she does have an unfortunate start to her story.”

“Please don’t eat me,” E.B. begged in a breathy voice, but I couldn’t tell to whom that particular plea was addressed. Perhaps all of us.

“Nan!” A redheaded blur launched herself at my grandmother and wrapped her in an enormous hug. It took me a second to recognize her since we’d only known each other briefly—and close to a year ago at that. It was the little Yorkie at her side that ultimately helped me remember.

“Mitch! Yo-Yo!” I cried, looking down just in time to see Octo-Cat get slobbered by the hyperactive dog. I laughed at the look of abject horror that crossed his face and shifted my focus back to the dog’s human companion. “How the heck are you guys?”

The smiling college student wrapped me in a tight hug next, yanking Yo-Yo away from Octo-Cat once she pulled away.

“It’s been much better now that I have my Yo-Yo with me.” She offered a brief, sad smile. Poor thing. Her parents had both been brutally murdered, and her traumatized Yorkie was the only witness to the crime. It hadn’t been easy, but Octo-Cat, Nan, and I had helped find the real culprit andclear the name of the falsely accused.

Ahh, memories.

“Charles is here, too,” Mitch said, her smile growing strong again. “He tells me you two are together now. That’s great!”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, heat rising to my cheeks. My crush back then had been painfully obvious to everyone—everyone but Charles himself.

She dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer to reveal,“He also has the freakiest looking cats I’ve ever seen.”

We both laughed at the mention of my boyfriend’s two Sphynx cats, Jacque and Jillianne. They’d also been witnesses to a murder this past year, and they themselves had been framed for it. Luckily, they had a great home now with Charles Longfellow, III, the sole partner of Glendale’s only legal firm, my former boss, and most recently the love of my life.

“Man, it’s so nice to see you again,” I told Mitch and gave her another quick hug. I loved how the holidays brought people together.

“I wish I could say the same to you, Dum-Dum,” Octo-Cat said to the Yorkie after he and Paisley had finished their ritualistic butt-sniffing. “But I generally try to avoid lying.”

“Greetings, Octavius. It’s good to see you again. A very happy holiday to you,” Yo-Yo answered with a smooth, even voice, leaving me dumbfounded in the process.

Back when we’d worked with Yo-Yo, I hadn’t yet been able to understand any animals besides Octo-Cat, which meant he had to act as my translator. The way he’d translated for this Yorkie had made the dog seem like a simpleton of few words. Of course, I was more than a little surprised by how eloquent and well-spoken he actually sounded now that I could understand him, too.

I’d have to call Octo-Cat on that later when we weren’t around so many people who didn’t know my secret. The last thing I needed was to expose my freak ability in such a crowded place. It was already hard enough to focus with all the human and animal voices swirling around the small retail space.

Even now, more and more people squeezed into the pet shop, forcing our merry gang of people and pets to shuffle toward the aquarium section to make space for the new arrivals. Most people hadn’t dressed up for the occasion, although a majority of dogs did sport seasonal costumes or festive sweaters. Octo-Cat was the only feline to be subjected to clothing, which he pointed out multiple times during our wait for Santa.

This particular shop had been victim to a string of thefts a couple months back. They’d never caught the person behind it, but I was happy to see that business was good. Perhaps all the extra holiday sales would help make up for the loss of income earlier in the year. At least… provided Santa ever showed up.

I pulled my phone from my purse and glanced at the digital clock.12:20.

“Shouldn’t we have started already?” I asked Nan, recalling mention of a noon start time but not being entirely sure.

“Yes, I was late as a matter of fact,” Mr. Gable said, showing off a gorgeous diamond-studded watch.

“Maybe Santa is home with a tummy ache after feasting on one too many Christmas cookies,” Nan quipped.

Officer Bouchard was the only one to laugh at her joke. No wonder she had a bit of a crush on him, despite their vast age difference.

“I’m going to go find Charles,” I said as I tightened Octo-Cat’s leash in my hand and scanned the store for any signs of my boyfriend and his two hairless cats. Normally, they’d stick out like sore thumbs, but the crowd made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead at a time.

Of course, several other acquaintances stopped me for a quick hello, including Pearl from the animal shelter and Harmony from the new day spa that had just opened in town earlier that fall. It took a while, but at last I found Charles standing near an impressive wall of bird cages with an even more impressive variety of birds flittering about behind the bars. He stood beside an extra-large pet carrier that no doubt contained his inseparable duo of Sphynx cats.

Much to my surprise, he wore a sweater that matched Octo-Cat’s, bells and all. “Hey, you,” he said with a flirtatious grin. “Come here often?”

I couldn’t help but giggle as he wrapped me in his arms and gave me an enthusiastic kiss hello. Surprised that my long-suffering cat didn’t make a comment about how disgusting we humans were, I shot a worried glance his way.

He stood on his hind legs like an oversized meercat as his wide eyes watched a particularly plump parakeet hop along its perch. No wonder Charles had chosen this spot to wait with his cats.

“Any idea what the holdup is?” I asked, turning back to Charles.

“No idea. Maybe they’ve just had a better turnout than expected.”

Well, that didn’t make much sense. This was my first time coming myself, but from what I knew, the popular photo-taking event was packed every single year since the pet shop first started offering it. And since they only had a limited amount of time to get the many pets photographed with Santa, they should definitely want to start on time—or at least make some kind of announcement about the holdup.

A feeling of discomfort rose in my chest.

What if something was wrong?

I was just about to say something about this niggling new worry to Charles when an ear-piercing scream rose from the employees-only area in the back of the store.

We both took off running.

4

The screaming continued even after we pushed through the doors into the stockroom.

Several other patrons ran toward the back room as well but hesitated outside the door. It seemed they preferred that Charles and I handle the potentially dangerous situation ourselves.

Good thing we made a heck of a team.

In the poorly lit space, we found a young curly-haired girl wearing the shop’s uniform of a green polo and khakis standing rooted to the spot while tears streaked down her reddened cheeks. Seeing us, she stopped screaming and began to sob and shake violently.

When I was finally able to tear my eyes away from her, I saw exactly what had made her so terrified. There, sprawled across the floor, lay a fat figure dressed entirely in red, save for the white trim on his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants.

It seemed we had located our missing Santa Claus.

“Poor schmuck,” my cat said, wrinkling his nose as he approached the holiday icon.

“I-I-I didn’t…” the girl sputtered, hardly speaking above a whisper now. Poor thing was probably a high school kid who worked here on the weekends. Not that anyone was ever truly prepared to stumble upon a dead body, but being younger could turn the unfortunate experience into a formative one for the unwitting witness.

“It’s okay,” I said, crossing the small distance to wrap her in my arms. She accepted my hug eagerly and continued crying into my scarf. At least she wasn’t screaming anymore.

Charles bent down and pressed his fingers to Santa’s neck. His mouth became a grim line while he waited, while we all waited.

“Dead,” he confirmed a moment later.

“Hands off my crime scene, please,” Officer Bouchard commanded with a hint of agitation as he joined us in the back room. “In fact, go lock up and keep anyone from leaving. Also find someone to keep an eye on my cats.”

I turned to leave with Charles and the store employee, but the police officer stopped me by placing a strong hand on my shoulder.“Looks like you’re my partner in this.”

“What?” I asked in disbelief. Sure, Officer Bouchard and I had connected on a couple of cases in the past, but generally I was either the witness or the victim—never a partner.

“I already alerted the local police, but it seems they’re tied up with a five-car pileup on the highway. They’ve got all their officers on it and asked if I could handle whatever it is we’ve got here while they finish up there.”

I continued to stare at him with equal parts excitement and anxiety.

He cleared his throat.“You are a P.I., aren’t you?”

Technically… yes, I was.

But no one had ever actually hired me as such. Of course, this small fact hadn’t stopped me and Octo-Cat from solving multiple crimes, including more than our fair share of small-town murders.

“C’mon,” the tabby urged. “We haven’t had a mystery to solve in a few weeks, and we need practice to stay on our game. Besides, it’s better than waiting in that circus out front.”

This wasn’t a game to me, even if it was to my cat. Sometimes I felt like he was a little devil sitting on my shoulder; other times he was more like an angel. Even if his reasoning wasn’t the best right now, he had reached the necessary conclusion. Officer Bouchard needed us, which meant the victim needed us.

“Yes, I am a P.I. And I’d be happy to help,” I answered at last.

He nodded but didn’t even attempt a smile.

“Who is this guy?” I asked, jumping straight to business. “Besides Santa, I mean.”

“Let’s see.” He stooped down and dipped his hands into the deceased’s pockets. “Hmm. Doesn’t seem to have any ID on him. We’ll need to get the store manager back here to answer some questions. She hired him, so hopefully she knows enough about him to get us on the right track.”

I bit my lip and watched as Officer Bouchard did another quick search of Santa’s pants and suit jacket. “Is it possible he died of natural causes, like a heart attack?”

“It’s possible, I suppose, but somehow I don’t think so. Look at how red his neck is.” He pointed with two fingers, then lifted the fake white beard up. He had to yank it harder than seemed strictly necessary and even grunted a little before the fake beard finally came away, revealing the telltale signs of a strangulation.

“Actually, I take that back,” the policeman said. “We’ll confirm with an autopsy, but I’m pretty certain this poor guy died of asphyxiation.”

It took a few moments for me to tear my eyes away. I’d never actually seen a dead body up close before. All the murder investigations I’d become involved with in the past had happened after the body had been taken away and the crime scene cleared.

“Ask your Nan if she can find the store manager while I secure the area,” Officer Bouchard instructed without looking up to make sure I was paying attention.

I did as I was told, and Nan eagerly agreed to help in whatever way she could. It took less than five minutes to debrief my grandmother and get her on board, and most of that time was spent fighting my way through the surge of nervous pet shop patrons. When I returned to the crime scene, I saw a very different picture than when I’d left.

Octo-Cat sat close to the victim, watching thoughtfully as the policeman continued his inspection. He almost appeared sad, and that didn’t fit his tough-as-tacks personality at all.

“What are you thinking?” I asked him, knowing Officer Bouchard would just assume I was addressing him rather than my cat.

Luckily, Octo-Cat knew who my words were meant for.“It smells fishy, but not the good kind of fishy,” he said in a nasally tone.

At the same time, Officer Bouchard murmured,“I’m wondering about the murder weapon. Look at that indentation.” He pointed again.

“Oh, the murder weapon’s easy,” Octo-Cat supplied. “I can smell it on him, and I can smell it…” His voice trailed off as he trotted deeper into the supply room and stopped near the back exit.

“There,” he said, sitting in front of a discarded dog leash with a smug look taking over his face.

I glanced back toward Officer Bouchard, but he was still entirely absorbed in his inspection of the corpse. Luckily, I still had my purse with me, and inside I had a small roll of plastic bags that Nan and I used whenever Paisley had to potty on one of our outings. I tore one off from the end, flipped it over my hand, and brought the presumed murder weapon back to the policeman.“Look at this. It was by the back door, and the markings seem to match up. The width, too.”

He turned toward me.“Got any more of those bags?”

I nodded and ripped a second one from the roll. Once his hand was covered, he took the leash and held it near the victim’s neck. Nodding, he bunched the leash into the bag and tied the top. “Well, that’s one way to avoid contaminating the evidence,” he said with a chuckle.

Nan and Paisley joined us then.

A heavyset woman with dark hair wearing the same green polo as the worker we’d met earlier came in right after them. Instead of khakis, she wore a floor-length skirt with diagonal red and white stripes, just like a candy cane. “I cannot believe this,” she murmured. “This is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.”

“Murder is most definitely not wonderful,” Nan added while bobbing her head.

“I know this must be very upsetting for you,” Officer Bouchard said with a stoic expression that could only come with years of experience. “But we need you to identify the victim.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she mumbled, widening her eyes as she took in the gruesome scene.

“Ma’am, can you confirm this is the man you hired to play the role of Santa Claus for your store today?” he asked, yanking down the beard to show the dead man’s entire face. Despite being dressed as an elderly Christmas icon, the victim was quite young. Early thirties at the most. I didn’t personally recognize him, but that didn’t make the situation much easier.

The store manager brought both hands to her mouth but didn’t say anything. It seemed she was fighting back tears. I couldn’t blame her for that.

“Ma’am?” Officer Bouchard prompted again. “Is this the man you hired?”

She sucked in a deep gasp of air and shook her head.“No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

5

“I’m sorry. What?” I asked the manager in complete disbelief.

“I don’t know who this is,” she said slowly, cautiously. “I hired Andy Crenshaw to be our Santa, and this definitely isn’t him.”

“Then who is it?” Nan asked.

“Why is he here dressed as Santa?” Officer Bouchard asked.

“And why is he dead?” I added to the rapid-fire barrage of questions.

She shook her head without stopping to look at any of us.“I have no idea. I can’t answer any of those questions for you. I’m sorry.”

We all stood quietly for a few minutes, completely at a loss as to where to take the investigation next. We had a body, a murder weapon, but no idea who our victim was or what motive someone might have to kill him or to do it at the pet shop.

It was the store manager who spoke next.“I need to go do some damage control,” she squeaked, heading back toward the front of the shop.

Octo-Cat nudged my stockinged leg with his paw to get my attention, then said,“The door. It’s where we found the murder weapon. Ask her about it before she gets away.”

“Wait,” I cried with a startling amount of passion in my plea. “This door back here. Is it accessible from outside?”

We all walked toward the rear door, and the manager pointed to a keypad on the wall.

“It’s alarmed,” she said. “We added that system in after the third theft this fall. Anyone who wants to get in or out needs to know the code.”

“Thank you,” I said, wondering why she seemed so upset by my innocent question.

“Are we done here?” the manager practically barked.

“We’ll let you know if we have any more questions,” Officer Bouchard said, motioning toward the door that led back to the front of house.

“Oh, but don’t let anyone out or in!” he called after her, offering me and Nan a dispirited shrug once the store manager was out of view.

“I guess I should be thankful it wasn’t grandma who got run over by a reindeer this time,” my grandmother said in a misguided attempt to lighten the mood.

I wanted to ask Octo-Cat if he smelled anything else worth noting on the victim’s body but couldn’t risk being discovered by Officer Bouchard. That meant we’d be solving this crime the good old-fashioned way. “Should we start questioning suspects?” I suggested.

“Oh, that’s a good idea, dear,” Nan said warmly.

The policeman stretched from side to side and then cracked his neck.“Yes, but there must be at least thirty people here, and almost everyone brought at least one pet with them. That’s a really full house.”

“And it will take a long time to question all of them, too,” I said with a sigh. “Hey, what if we get Charles to help? He’s great at examining witnesses in court, so why not at a pet shop? That way, each of us can take ten.”

Officer Bouchard nodded.“Sounds like the best option we’ve got at the moment. Let’s do it.”

“What about me?” Nan asked, then placed an affectionate kiss between Paisley’s giant triangle ears. I’d forgotten Paisley was with us, seeing as her holiday jumper blended in perfectly to Nan’s. She’d also kept strangely quiet since their arrival at the crime scene. Of course, this was all new to her. I hoped she wasn’t scarred by the discovery of the dead body in the same way the teen employee seemed to be.

“You help the manager and the other employee keep everyone in line. Make sure no one comes or goes, and also make sure everyone is brought back for questioning,” the officer instructed.

“You’ve got it.” Nan offered a quick salute, then marched away while chattering happily to the dog in her arms.

“Where are we going to set up to give us all some privacy?” I asked, eyeing the Christmas corpse wearily once more.

“Probably not back here,” he said with a frown. “We don’t want to march folks through our crime scene. I do believe the cat room offers some privacy.”

“Good call. And I think there’s a little free flight area for the birds, too.” I’d noticed the small plexiglass enclosure on the other side of the bird cages. Presumably it was a place where people could interact up close with the small parrots before deciding whether or not to take one home. “Now we just need one more place. An office maybe?”

He motioned toward a messy desk shoved in the corner of the stockroom.“An office? I’m pretty sure that’s it.”

“Ugh, okay.” I fiddled with a hangnail on my thumb, resisting the urge to bring it to my mouth. Whatever comfort the nervous habit brought would be far too gross given the circumstances. “Why don’t you and Charles go ahead and get set up in the bird and cat rooms, and I’ll find somewhere to do my interviews.”

He raised both eyebrows.“You sure?”

“Yeah. There’s gotta be some place that will work. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said with a hesitant smile. “If you’re sure. Let’s get this show on the road. I’ll go see if Mr. Gable would be willing to make sure no one comes into the back room and disturbs Santa here.”

“I’ll wait for you to come back, then I’ll go catch Charles up on the plan.”

He left, which meant I was alone with an unidentified dead body. Well, at least I still had Octo-Cat at my side.

“Why didn’t we take the bird room?” he asked in annoyance, his striped tail flicking spasmodically. “That would have been a nice thing to consider for your feline partner, you know.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly why we didn’t take it,” I whispered, just in case anyone was nearby and might overhear me carrying on a conversation with my cat. “I need you to focus, not to be distracted by birdwatching or gossipy cats.”

“Fair enough,” he said with a shrug. “Can you at least take this sweater off me now?”

I needed to give him at least this much or he’d give me the silent treatment, and that was never very conducive to solving mysteries. “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “But you’re keeping the harness.”

“Why?” he ground out, the beginnings of a tantrum coming on. “The exits are all blocked. Where exactly am I going to go?”

I groaned but ultimately agreed to let him go naked, save for his God-given fur coat.“There,” I said, once I’d finished undressing my expert manipulator of a kitty. “You’re free.”

“What was that?” Officer Bouchard asked, returning at that precise moment.

“There you are,” I said with a smile. “Was Mr. Gable free to help?”

“Of course, and he’s happy to,” he said. “He’s right outside.”

Pffhew. I’d managed to evade suspicion once more—not that talking to my cat was a crime, but sometimes it sure felt like it given the number of lies I needed to tell in order to avoid being discovered.

“Great. I’ll go get Charles,” I told him with what I hoped looked like an easy smile.

“I’ll go get my interrogation room ready,” he said, then we left the storage room together. While I continued straight ahead, Office Bouchard swerved toward the right, presumably to set up shop in his choice of the bird or the cat room.

I found Charles easily enough. He, Nan, and the two store workers stood together in a small huddle, blocking the exit from the rest of the crowd. But before I could weave my way through the foot traffic and join them there, someone from outside pounded on the door.

All I saw was red—not angry red, more like holly jolly red. The manager moved to the side and quickly unlocked the door to pull the newcomer inside.

“Don’t do that!” I shouted, but it was too late.

She spotted me racing toward them and waved me over to meet the new arrival, the one who shouldn’t have been let in at all.

“This is Andy Crenshaw,” she said, glaring first at him and then at me. “He’s the one whoshould have been here.”

Sure enough, Andy was dressed in a Santa costume of his own. His was of a far better quality than the dead man’s, though. Probably didn’t mean anything, but it was hard not to notice.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, ignoring me, Nan, and the other store employee as he addressed the manager and only the manager. “I couldn’t find my beard to save my life this morning. Got it now, though.” He stroked the silky white hair on his chin, completely oblivious to what he’d just walked into.

“Oh, Andy. That missing beard probably saved your life,” the manager cried, and as soon as she did, her employee began to cry hysterically all over again.

6

The new Santa—the living one—let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, c’mon, Shirley,” he said with a shake of his head in the store manager’s direction. “Saved my life? That’s dramatic even for you.”

“We have an unidentified body in the back room,” I confirmed with a dead-serious expression on my face. “And he’s dressed as Santa Claus. Just like you.”

“What?” Santa number two squeaked. “She’s not serious.” He turned back toward the store manager—Shirley—with his jaw hanging open.

She nodded.“Unfortunately, she is.”

“Well, I’m outta here.” Santa turned back toward the door and pulled hard with both gloved hands. Luckily, it had been relocked immediately following his arrival.

“Now that you’re here, you can’t leave,” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest and hoping I looked at least somewhat authoritative. “Your name is Andy Crenshaw. Is that right?”

“Yes, and if some psycho is taking out Santa’s impersonators, then I need to get the heck out of Dodge,” he grumbled, but he wasn’t fooling me. Not with this act.

“Well, seeing as you’re already here,” I said with a shrug. “Come with me so I can ask you a few questions. Um, Shirley, do you have a private room where I can speak with Andy?”

“We have rooms for the cats and birds,” she explained with a nervous glance toward Andy. “Oh, and the storage room. But I’m afraid that’s it.”

I shook my head.“Those are all occupied at the moment. Are you sure you don’t have anywhere else?”

She thought for a second, then her face brightened.“The bathroom?” she suggested as if it was the solution to all the problems we faced today. In some ways, perhaps it was.

“That’ll have to do,” I said, charging toward the back of the store without giving it another thought. “C’mon, Andy.”

Shirley pushed him forward, then called after us.“It’s toward the back, just to the left of the storage room door.”

We found it easily enough. Thankfully, it was clean. Unfortunately, it was also rather small and offered no real seating other than the toilet itself.

“I hate human litter boxes,” Octo-Cat sneered. “They’re so unsanitary.”

“You can sit if you want,” I told Andy, ignoring the tabby’s side chatter.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the yellowing wall by the hand dryer.“Yeah, I’d rather not. In fact, I don’t really want to be here at all.”

I mirrored his body language and backed myself up to the closed door.“Sorry about that. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have been let in at all.”

He let out a sarcastic huff, making his feelings about me excessively clear. Couldn’t he see that I was just trying to help? And if he had nothing to hide, then why was he acting like he might?

I stared at him, working hard to keep my expression neutral and open.“Okay, now tell me. If you were hired to play Santa today, why is someone else lying dead in the back dressed as Mr. Claus?”

Andy shook his head and set his gaze toward the tiled floor.“I still can’t believe any of this real. Do you think that the killer meant to come after me instead of… well, of whoever it is back there?”

“That’s a possibility.” I studied my fingernails, trying to appear disinterested in case he looked up again. “But then that begs a whole new host of questions, such as who would want you dead and why?”

He scoffed.“Jeez, you don’t beat around the bush, do you, lady?”

“Angie,” I introduced myself without a smile. “My name is Angie.”

“I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but we both know that would be a lie, given our introduction comes with a body count.” He reached out his hand in greeting and I reluctantly accepted.

Andy’s eyes locked on mine and he squeezed my hand tight. “Can I please go now? Angie?”

“But you haven’t told me anything,” I argued.

“Because I don’t know anything,” he said, his jaw firm.

I narrowed my eyes and silently counted to five before continuing. If he had nothing to do with the murder, then why was he in such a hurry to get away from me? Away from here? I had plenty more I wanted to ask him, but it wouldn’t hurt to talk to some other people before taking a second crack at Andy Crenshaw.

I stepped to the side and motioned toward the door.“All right. You can go.”

“Thank you,” he enunciated as he pushed through the door.

“You can leave the bathroom,” I clarified, chasing after him. “But not the store. I may need to talk to you some more later.”

He shook his head, then walked away without another word.

Octo-Cat, who had observed the whole exchange in rare silence, hopped onto the back of the toilet tank, fixing his large amber eyes on me.“Well, that guy’s an idiot,” he said plainly.

“We’re not here to judge his intelligence,” I reminded him. “We’re here to try to find out if he did it or if he might know who did.”

“I doubt that guy can remember what he had for breakfast,” my mean kitty quipped, then laughed at his own joke.

“He didn’t seem suspicious to you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He did,” my cat confirmed, raising a paw to begin his mid-day ministrations. “But not because he did it. Because he’s too stupid to act cool under pressure.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t quite agree. “Can you think of anything I should have asked him?”

“Well…”Lick, lick, lick.Pause.“It’s hard to figure out whodunnit when you don’t even know who they done it to. If you were a pro like the guys onLaw& Order,you would figure out that first part before trying to solve the second.”

Yes, he was one hundred percent right. I scratched him under the chin to reward him.“You’re really smart sometimes. You know that?”

He flicked his tail and raised the hair on his scruff of his neck.“Please. I’m smart all the time. Also don’t touch me. I’m not in the mood.”

I was more than used to my cat’s wildly shifting attitudes, so I knew better than to be offended. At least he was helping me.

Now I just needed to hurry up and solve this murder before he grew bored with it…

7

Octo-Cat and I left the bathroom a few short minutes later and traced our way straight toward the bird room. But when we spied Charles inside with a willowy, middle-aged woman and her massive dapple dog, we carried on our way toward the cat room and waited outside until the door cracked open and a young couple slipped through with their giant blue-and-gold macaw.

As soon as they were out, I slid in and closed the door securely behind me.

Officer Bouchard sat on a metal folding chair jotting notes into a small spiralbound notebook.“Is it going any better for you than it is for me?”

“I doubt it,” I answered, keeping my voice quiet. “We still don’t even know who the dead guy is.”

He finished writing then slipped the notebook into his back pocket and sighed.“Yeah, that does complicate things.”

“What are you asking people about then?” I wondered aloud.

“I’m mostly trying to get a grip on who’s here and whether anyone seems unusually nervous or unusually calm about what happened.”

I nodded. His strategy made sense, but it wasn’t exactly easy to decode the behavior of people I didn’t even know outside of today’s situation. “Would you mind if I took a picture of the victim’s face and showed it around? See if we can get an ID on the guy?”

“Go for it. Let’s regroup after we’ve had the chance to speak to a few more people each. Oh, and before you head back, will you please send my next witness in?”

I had to wonder if the people at the pet store could really be considered witnesses, given that nobody had actually seen what happened—but I supposed it was nicer than calling them suspects. Though, in truth, they were that, too.

Exchanging a quick nod of acknowledgement, Octo-Cat and I breezed right by Mr. Gable, our impromptu crime scene guard, and returned to the closed-off storage room and the corpse that lay within.

“Poor sad sap,” Octo-Cat hissed as we strode up to the victim. His body lay on the floor undisturbed since our last visit.

“Are you okay?” I asked, realizing he had only seen a dead body once before—and that it had belonged to his late owner, a woman he had loved very much.

“Humans are gross.” He paced away from the body and plopped himself down beside my feet. “Even more so when they’re dead.”

I couldn’t argue with him there. “It creeps me out being back here. Let’s get the picture and go.”

Taking his silence as confirmation of this plan, I squatted down and hovered over the body. The elastic string on the beard had snapped, and the victim’s fake beard lay slightly askew across his face. Was that a result of Officer Bouchard’s roughness with it earlier?

Whatever the case, I pulled it down and snapped a quick closeup photo with my phone. Once I confirmed that his features didn’t appear too blurry or otherwise difficult to make out, I shoved my phone back into my purse and hightailed it out of there.

Octo-Cat stayed close at my heels, chatting incessantly as we journeyed back through the store.“Let’s see, let’s see. Who looks like a murderer here?”

We passed a woman holding a baby on her hip and lecturing twin toddlers who sat near her feet. One of the kids held a small plastic tank with a pair of teddy bear hamsters inside.

“A poor overburdened mom? Yeah, she looks like the type to snap,” my cat commented as we passed, and I was so, so thankful she couldn’t understand him.

I circled back toward the young family and held my phone up so that the mother could see it, but the kids couldn’t. “Do you recognize this man?” I asked with a frown.

She shook her head and rocked the baby seemingly even before it started to whimper.“Sorry, no.”

We spotted the couple with the large dapple dog next. Since Officer Bouchard had just finished questioning them, I decided to pass them by—at least for now.

“Dog people?” my cat quipped. “Guilty!”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from mentioning that he had recently become best friends with a Chihuahua. According to Octo-Cat’s infallible logic, his doggie buddy was too small to actually count as a dog, though.Typical.

We continued making our way down the long aisle and stopped at the next customer, a single man who appeared to be roughly my age. He had an all-white ferret draped loosely across his shoulder. It wore a harness but still didn’t seem entirely under control.

“This guy definitely could have done it,” Octo-Cat said dryly. “Why keep a ferret when you could have a cat? Dogs, I can almost understand. But a ferret?” He shuddered, staring up at me as if he expected me to immediately slap some cuffs on the witness simply for his choice of pet.

“Any chance you know this guy?” I asked ferret man, flashing my cell phone his way.

The animal on his shoulder crept down to sniff at the phone.“That’s Marcus,” the ferret told me, slithering back up to his owner’s shoulder just as quickly and as fluidly as he descended from his perch.

“Yeah, that’s Marcus Manetti,” the human man said after a few awkward moments passed. “We went to high school together. Still hang out sometimes, too.”

“Sometimes?” the ferret demanded with a thick accent. “Try every single week. I have to stay in my cage whenever he comes over.”

“Thanks for helping us put a name to the face,” I told the guy. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions somewhere a little more private?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering for a moment on my ample hips.Ick.

“Let’s get going then,” I said, feeling his eyes on me as I made my way toward my impromptu bathroom office and he followed.

“Wait here for a moment while I, uh, review my notes,” I mumbled, taking great satisfaction in the crestfallen expression that crossed his face right before I slammed the door in it.

“You want me to talk to the ferret while you talk to the creepy human. Am I right?” Octo-Cat asked drolly.

I nodded and gave him the thumbs up, so happy we were on the same page when it came to procedure. Now that that little bit was taken care of, it was time to commence questioning.

I flung the door open again and placed one hand on my hip. Since I’d already caught ferret guy ogling me, I wanted to make extra sure I appeared professional and authoritative while speaking with him.

“Okay,” I began. “Let’s get this…”

My voice fell away when I discovered that Octo-Cat and I were entirely alone. Our carefully placed—and only very temporarily abandoned—pair of witnesses had vanished.

8

I did a full circuit of the pet shop but couldn’t find the man and his ferret. Just as I was about to give up on him for the moment and question someone else, something pulled me back to the storage room.

More specifically my cat.“Yuck, ferret stench at nine o’clock,” he groused as we were passing by the doors that led into the back.

I immediately turned back and pushed through those doors. Sure enough, our missing witness and his ferret knelt shaking beside his murdered friend.

He jumped when I entered.“Why would anyone want to kill Marcus?” His voice cracked midway through the question.

I stared down my nose at him. Although he was clearly upset about seeing his friend in such a state, he’d also barged in uninvited and contaminated the crime scene. “That’s what we were hoping you could tell us.”

He glanced toward me, not bothering to hide his tears as he asked,“We? Us?”

“Officer Bouchard and me,” I clarified. Jeez, I needed to be more careful with my pronouns before they got me in trouble.

“Way to show appreciation for your real partner here,” my cat growled, then stalked right up to the man and unleashed a wicked hiss.

The ferret made a defensive noise somewhat resembling a hiss, but his owner remained unperturbed.

“What’s your name?” I asked him. “Any why did you come back here? How did you even get past our guard?”

His shoulders slumped.“I’m Scott. I just needed to see Marcus to be sure. I still can’t believe anyone would want to kill him.” Now a sad smile crossed Scott’s face. “And, um, by guard do you mean the old man who’s sitting outside the door, sleeping while cuddling a rabbit?”

Okay, that was embarrassing. I’d been in such distress over trying to find Scott and his ferret, I hadn’t even noticed that Mr. Gable had nodded off.

“Why are you surprised by Marcus’s death?” I asked.

“Hey, ferret, c’mere,” Octo-Cat commanded the little white rodent.

“The name’s Dmitri. Thanks,” the ferret responded. Finally I placed his accent as Eastern European. Where did all these animals get their accents from if they’d only ever lived in Maine?

Dmitri showed zero fear of the larger feline predator as he climbed down his owner’s leg and plopped onto the ground. His leash, however, prevented him from wandering too far.

“Step into my office,” my cat said, circling behind Scott and using the man’s baggy pants to serve as a makeshift screen, thus separating his conversation with Dmitri from the one I was about to have with the ferret’s owner.

Scott cleared his throat, but his voice still came out scratchy.“Murder is always surprising,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Don’t you think?”

Fair enough, but not exactly helpful.“Did he have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt him?” I asked next while the animals whispered to each other nearby.

Scott became rigid. His face set in a determined scowl.“Is Marcus the one on trial here?”

“No, but we need to know more about him and who might have wanted him dead,” I pointed out. “That is, unless you don’t want us to be able to catch the killer.”

“Of course I want you to catch the killer. I just have no idea who it could be.” And just like that, all the newfound bluster drained away and Scott sat limp and sad once more. “Nobody had a problem with Marcus,” he continued. “I mean, he didn’t really know that many people. He mostly stayed at home, seeing as he was between jobs.”

This was new information. So far, Scott was the only person who seemed to have any information at all—or at least the only one who was willing to share with some random woman and her cat.

“At home?” I asked gently, not wanting to scare him out of sharing. If he saw me as an ally, perhaps he would speak even more freely. “Did he live with you?”

He shook his head and tightened the ferret’s leash in his hand. “No, he and Dmitri don’t exactly get along, though he has crashed on my couch a few times.”

Hmm.“So he didn’t like Dmitri? Why not?”

“It wasn’t just Dmitri. He didn’t really like any animals as far as I knew,” Scott explained.

I raised an eyebrow.“Allergic?”

“Maybe. He never said anything, and I never really noticed. Well, other than the fact I had to keep Dmitri locked up whenever Marcus came for a visit.”

Regardless of his reasons for disliking animals, it seemed strange that Marcus would be creeping around the back of a pet shop during an event which brought out dozens of pets.

I tucked that observation away and moved on with my questions.“Okay, so you said he wasn’t living with you. Do you know who he was living with now?”

Scott shrugged.“I don’t know. He doesn’t really talk much about things like that. And come to think of it, he’s blown me off the last few times we were supposed to hang out.”

“So, as far as you know, he was homeless and unemployed?” My soft tone and gentle features did nothing to lessen the impact of this statement.

“That’s offensive,” Scott shot back. “It’s not like he was some scourge on society, but yeah, I guess,technically, he was both of those things at the moment.”

“Thank you, Scott. This has all been really helpful. Are we done here?” I asked, projecting my voice to make sure Octo-Cat would hear the question.

“I sure hope so,” Scott answered with a frown. “It’s bad enough that he’s dead. I really don’t like standing over his corpse and saying awful things about him, too.”

All things that are true, though, I thought but had the good sense not to say.

“Not quite ready yet,” my cat called back. “Can you buy me like five minutes, please?”

“Actually, I have another question,” I told my witness before he could slink away. “Um, why would Marcus have shown up here dressed as Santa?”

“No idea. Maybe it was a last-minute gig or something. I mean, he regularly surfed the gigs section on Craigslist to make quick cash doing whatever someone needed. And a few times a month, he’d hang out at the hardware store looking for day labor or whatnot.”

“But he hates animals,” I countered.

“He probably hated starving even worse, I bet,” Scott said with a sigh. Despite his valid point, something still wasn’t adding up.

“Done,” Octo-Cat shouted.

“Thanks for your help,” I muttered. “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions.”

Scott scooped up his ferret and left after taking one last lingering look at his lost friend.

“Okay, what did you learn from Dmitri?” I asked Octo-Cat quietly.

“Who’s Dmitri?” he asked me with wide, unblinking eyes.

I would have laughed if I weren’t so irritated. “The ferret you just had like a ten-minute conversation with,” I reminded him.

“Oh, right. That guy. Yeah, he said that the stiff is basically a good-for-nothing layabout who hates animals but loves to cheat at video games when he thinks his friends aren’t paying attention.”

“Lovely,” I said with a sigh. “Sounds like a gem of a guy.”

Octo-Cat snorted.“Sounds to me like he’s not going to be missed.”

I thought about this for a second. The pieces had finally started clicking into place.“Maybe that’s what the killer was counting on,” I exclaimed, more than a little excited by the new theory that was forming in my mind. “I have an idea. Let’s go get the others.”

9

Officer Bouchard and Charles joined me in the storage room once the two of them had finished their most recent interviews. I’d interrupted both partway through to let them know I’d be waiting to speak with them as soon as they were available.

“Okay, what have you got?” Officer Bouchard asked, once the three of us were huddled together at the scene of the crime.

“I have a working theory, but I want to hear what you guys found first,” I said, then sucked in a deep breath and waited for them to share.

“We’ve only made it through a handful of witnesses at best,” my boyfriend said with a heavy sigh. “I’ve got nothing.”

Officer Bouchard nodded as he flicked through his notepad.“I’ve learned that the Santa who was supposed to be here was well known in the area. He’d been acting as Santa for this establishment ever since they first started doing Christmas pet pictures six years back. He usually serves as Santa at outdoor festivals and other seasonal events, too. Basically, if someone wants to hire a Santa, he’s it.”

“So that makes the appearance of a double all the more curious,” Charles said, then bit his lip in thought.

Curious, yes, but with each new fact I heard, my theory only gained strength. Add to that Andy Crenshaw’s behavior during our brief chat and I knew there was no way he could be innocent—or at least not completely.

Officer Bouchard studied the victim with a frown.“No one seems to know who he is or why he was here.”

“One of the customers identified him as Marcus Manetti, a local who was both out of a job and out of a home at the moment,” I revealed.

“Hmm,” Charles said, running a hand across the back of his neck. “Not someone I’ve ever met.”

Well, of course not. Not only did they live in different cities, but they ran in completely different circles.

“According to one of my witnesses, Marcus was desperate, would have done anything for cash.” I carefully watched both men, waiting to see if they might reach the same conclusion I had.

It was Charles’s eyes that sparked with understanding first. “He was desperate. And the pet store has suffered more than its fair share of thefts this year. He turns up dead right here. Seems like that might not be a coincidence.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already figured this thing out?” Officer Bouchard said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

I couldn’t have hidden the giant smile that creeped across my face even if I’d wanted to. If my suspicions were correct, then Octo-Cat and I had managed to solve this one in record time. “Actually, I think I might have,” I told my co-investigators. “But to catch our killer, we’re going to have to put on a little play.”

I caught them up on my conversations thus far and how I’d reached my theory.

“Sounds pretty logical to me,” Charles said, then gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re so sexy when you’re smart.”

“So all the time?” I asked with a laugh.

“Ugh. Gag me,” Octo-Cat spat. “Just because you and UpChuck are an item doesn’t mean you have to flaunt it everywhere. Some of us have delicate dispositions. Also, how about you don’t steal my lines next time?”

I briefly remembered Octo-Cat’s and my conversation in the bathroom after we’d questioned Andy Crenshaw and how he’d likewise claimed to be smart all the time. Maybe he was rubbing off on me a little too much these days.

Deciding not to worry about it, I grabbed Charles by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a deeper kiss, much to my cat’s chagrin.

“All right, all right,” Officer Bouchard interrupted. “Break it up. We’ve got work to do.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Less than ten minutes later, we found ourselves assembled in the storage room once more, now with one dead body, two store employees, and our two most likely suspects. One of them had killed Santa, and I felt pretty confident I knew whodunnit. If everything went according to plan, we could trick the killer into a confession that would clarify everything—and all before local police arrived on the scene.

Officer Bouchard led the charge. His uniform and badge lent an air of authority that neither Charles nor I could hope to replicate.“Thanks for joining us back here. We’re just about done with the primary stage of our investigation, and your cooperation will get us all out of lockdown and headed home just as quickly as possible.”

“I hope whoever did this goes away for a long, long time,” Shirley, the store manager, grumbled while smoothing unseen wrinkles from her skirt. As far as she knew, we’d asked her back to help corral the suspects. She hadn’t been too keen on leaving the store unattended during a lockdown, but Nan had agreed to keep an eye on things up front for as long as this took, which at least was enough to get her back here.

We’d also invited Andy, the man who was supposed to be playing Santa for the event, and Scott, the one who had correctly identified Santa. Rounding up our little group was a sixteen-year-old girl named Bella. She was the employee who had first discovered the dead body.

It had been much more difficult to convince the three of them to join us. Might a guilty conscience be at play? I was betting on it.

“This is Marcus Manetti,” Officer Bouchard said next, motioning toward the victim. “As far as we know, he was unemployed, hated animals, and had absolutely no reason to be in the store today.”

“Somebody, however, made sure he was,” I said shooting a sad smile toward poor Marcus. “This wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. The killer nabbed his intended victim.”

“But why would someone kill Marcus?” Scott, the ferret guy, asked with a sniff. Even though he’d already spent time with his fallen friend, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was almost as if he expected Marcus to cryGOTCHA and jump back to his feet.

“Whoever did it was really angry,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself and letting a shudder overtake my body. I wasn’t the best actress in the world, but my former Broadway starlet nan had made sure I was at least passable. “When we flipped him over, we found several knife wounds in hisback.”

“Knife wounds!” Bella cried just as we knew she would. “That’s it. I quit. I know you needed the help, Miss Shirley, but there is no way I’m working at a place where someone was stabbed to death, and during business hours, too.”

“Stabbings aren’t very common,” Charles said with an understanding nod. “I wouldn’t give up your job on the off chance that lightning could strike twice. Don’t you depend on the income for gas and trips to the mall and stuff?”

“Hardly.” Bella pulled the uniform shirt off over her head, leaving only a thin-strapped tank top beneath. “I’ve only worked here for a few weeks, anyway. And my life is worth way more than some spare change.”

“Only a few weeks?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I repositioned myself to face Shirley. “Then who worked for you before that?”

“No one,” the manager complained with a grimace. “Apparently I can’t keep an employee to save my life.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Officer Bouchard noted. “Did you ever employ Marcus Manetti?”

She shook her head, but not with much vigor.“No, he dropped off an application several months back, but he had too many holes in his work history for me to even consider hiring him.”

“I thought you’d never seen him in your life,” Charles pointed out gently, taking a couple steps toward Shirley.

She stood her ground.“I hadn’t, but I recognize the name, now that you’ve said it,” Shirley answered, nonplussed. If she was guilty, then she was doing an amazing job of hiding it.

I took two steps forward as well.“So are you saying it wasn’t you who stabbed him in the back?”

Only now that Charles and I had formed a wall before her did she appear nervous.“Of course not! And if he was stabbed, where’s the blood?”

“Oh, good point,” Charles said. “There’s no blood, but he was definitely stabbed in the back.”

We all turned to stare at her, but Shirley held her ground even as Officer Bouchard moved toward the door to block the exit.

“Well, it wasn’t me,” she said coldly.

“No, it wasn’t you who did the deed,” Charles said without breaking his glare toward Shirley.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not guilty,” Officer Bouchard finished.

And that was the end of act one.

In act two, we would catch a killer.

10

“I don’t have to take this,” Shirley cried, marching straight up to Officer Bouchard and pushing his chest.

He refused to budge from his place in front of the door.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” she hissed, fury building to a fever pitch. “It’s bad enough this happened in my store during a very public event, but to have you accuse me as well?”

I approached slowly and put a hand on Shirley’s shoulder. She spun around and faced me head-on. “We know you didn’t kill him, but we also know you wanted him dead.”

I was taking a risk with this proclamation, but given the store manager’s flaring temper, I was banking on the fact she wouldn’t be thinking logically—just as Bella’s fear kept her from thinking logically about our claim of stab wounds on the victim’s back. Sometimes it took a few well-placed lies to suss out the truth.

Shirley breathed heavily, her entire chest heaving as she regarded me coldly.

I matched my breathing to hers and waited. I would wait as long as it took.

“I wanted the thief who was stealing from my store punished,” she said at last. “I didn’t want anyone dead.”

And there it was.

Officer Bouchard removed the handcuffs from his belt but made no move to slap them on Shirley.“So you ordered the hit? Who carried it out?”

Panic mounted. I so badly wanted to turn and see how the others were reacting, but I had to count on Octo-Cat and Charles to keep eyes on them until we were done with Shirley.

“No, of course, I didn’t order a hit,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “Can you hear what you’re saying? I told you I’ve never seen that man before in my life, and I wasn’t lying about that.”

“Then how did you find out Marcus was the thief who’d been stealing from your store?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Why are you so convinced it was me?” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Crimson droplets of blood fell to her candy cane skirt. A stress nosebleed. Gross.

“I didn’t do it,” she said in a husky growl.

“Can we stop with this now?” her employee Bella whined. “I just want to go home.”

“Me, too,” our hired Santa Andy said.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Charles snapped.

Only Scott remained silent. Well, and Marcus.

“You.”Shirley rounded her shoulders and snapped her attention toward Andy.“What is wrong with you? Are you honestly going to let me take the fall for your stupidity?”

“I didn’t do it. I wasn’t even here!” Andy exploded.

“Weren’t you, though?” I asked, crinkling my nose as I spun on my heels to face him.

“Ooh, goodie! Now we get to play with the moron. I’ve been waiting for this.” Octo-Cat unsheathed his claws and ran a gentle tongue over them. “Want me to take him out at the ankles?” my cat offered, and I motioned for him to hang tight.

Confusion crossed Andy’s face. It seemed he’d taken my wild motioning to be some sort of signal to Charles. Well, good.

“You all saw me come in after you’d already barricaded the doors,” he reminded us.

“Yes, that was a valiant attempt at an alibi,” Charles said with a chuckle. “But it doesn’t actually clear you at all.”

“I didn’t kill the guy,” Andy protested. His eyes zoomed toward the door where Shirley still stood near Officer Bouchard. “Why would I when you told me just to scare him a little bit?”

“Is that why you stabbed him?” I asked before he even realized he’d said too much.

“I didn’t stab him,” he mumbled. “I just strangled him a little bit.”

“So you admit it!” Shirley screamed and held both arms out to indicate Andy. “There you go, there’s your guy. Arrest him.”

“No, I didn’t kill him!” Andy shouted back. I had no doubts that the people at the front of the store could hear every word that passed between us now. We needed to hope that they didn’t storm Nan in a desperate attempt to get away from the murderous shouting match.

“Like I said,” Andy said with a clenched jaw. “I just strangled him a little. Not enough to kill him. The leash was around his neck for less than a minute while I whispered a warning in his ear. I scared him, just like I was paid to do. I did not kill him.”

“If I didn’t kill him, and you didn’t kill him…” Shirley’s voice trailed off as everyone turned toward Scott, the only remaining suspect.

Scott grabbed the ferret from his shoulder and cuddled the thin white creature as he spoke.“He may have been lazy and a cheat, but he was my friend.”

“One of you did it,” Officer Bouchard said sternly. “And so farall of you have freely admitted your motives. Well, all of you but one, that is.”

“Are you even kidding me with this right now?” Shirley growled. “Stop throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping it will stick, and stop holding my customers hostage. If you need to arrest Andy, just do it and let’s get on with our day. Whether or not he confesses to the murder, he admits tothe strangling.”

Officer Bouchard swung the handcuffs and traded places with Charles.“Actually, we’ll be making three arrests today. Yours included,” he informed Shirley.

“Who’s the third?” Scott asked, his voice shaking. “Because I didn’t—”

“I didn’t mean to kill him!” Bella cried out. “When I found him, he was already laying on the floor and gasping for air. I thought I could help by using my CPR training, but the beard got in the way and… and…” The teen broke apart in sobs.

And scene.I hadn’t known for sure that Bella played a part in Marcus’s death, but there was no mistaking the girl’s frantic confession for the truth.

“So Shirley wanted the person stealing from her store to be found and stopped,” I summarized, pacing the length of the room. “She hired Andy to put a little fear into him. Andy, in his own words,strangled him just a little bit,and Bella accidentally smothered him while trying to administer a life-saving procedure. What I still don’t understand is why he was even here and dressed as Santa Claus in the first place. Especially when Shirley hired Andy, not Marcus.”

“Bella…” Shirley whispered, but could hardly be heard over the girl’s sobbing.

Scott spoke up next, still stroking his ferret for comfort.“This all sounds pretty crazy to me. Marcus may have been a cheat, but he wasn’t a thief.”

“How did you determine that Marcus was the one stealing?” Officer Bouchard asked Andy.

He stifled a yawn as if the whole thing bored him.“The security footage, obviously.”

“But we never caught the guy on camera. In fact, it’s been busted for months, which was the whole reason why we had to install the alarm,” Shirley said, taking a step back and shaking her head in disbelief. “And, like I said, I never saw Marcus before today.”

“But you admitted to knowing it was him,” I said to Andy. “How?”

“I don’t have to answer your questions,” he said with a growl.

Shirley broke into a sprint, moving faster than I’d have thought possible as she fled toward the desk in the corner of the room, turned a key in the locked drawer, and pulled out a gun.

Rounding on us, she shouted,“No, but you have to answer mine!”

“Whoa, ma’am. Put down the gun,” Officer Bouchard said quietly, probably to avoid alerting the thirty-ish people outside of the storage room to the new danger that had arisen.

“Not until he tells me what happened,” she said, her unblinking eyes fixed on Andy. “My pet shop is not a killing ground.”

“You’re crazy.” Andy laughed. Octo-Cat was right; this guy was an idiot.

Shirley raised the gun higher. She only had eyes for Andy now.“Keep stalling, and you’ll find out just how crazy I am.”

“He owed me money, all right? Jeez. He owed me money. I asked him to pick up this gig for me as part of that repayment. He also agreed to take the fall for stealing from your store to lessen his debt. And I already told you that I only strangled him a little. I was supposed to get the money from you, the money from him, and move on. Nobody was supposed to die.”

“But somebody did die,” Charles said, drawing both Andy’s and Shirley’s gaze toward him. “And it sounds like there’s nobody to blame but you.”

Officer Bouchard used the distraction to restrain Andy and finally make use of the handcuffs he’d been flashing for much of this conversation, while I approached Shirley with both of my hands out in surrender.

“Can we put the gun away, please?” I said calmly, even though I was becoming more and more terrified by the moment. My plan had gone off without a hitch… until the gun. That had definitely not been a part of the plan.

“You were the one stealing from me this whole time?” Shirley yelled, her voice growing hoarse. She kept the gun raised and pointed toward Andy while tears streamed down her face. “You were my friend.”

Andy laughed bitterly.“No, I was just some guy you paid to take care of business. It was never enough, and with low-lifes like Marcus defaulting on their debts, I had to find some way to pad my pockets a little.”

Shirley dropped the gun to the floor.“Take him away,” she seethed. “I never want to see that stupid face of his again.”

“Yup, I knew it the whole time,” Octo-Cat said.

Now it was my turn to let out a laugh, because of course the cat would take credit.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

The Dewdrop Springs police finally arrived fifteen minutes later. They took Andy, Shirley, Bella, and Scott with them to get their official statements down at the station.

I knew no one would blame Bella for trying to save the already weakened victim, but I worried she’d have a hard time dealing with the guilt over being the one to actually end his life.

Officer Bouchard stayed behind to lock up the store since both of its employees had been escorted off the premises by the other police officers.“Sorry, folks. No pictures with Santa today.”

Nobody seemed too upset about not being able to stick around; in fact, there was a mad rush toward the door the moment it was opened.

“Bummer,” Nan mumbled as she settled behind the wheel of her decked out sports car. “We didn’t get to take the pets’ pictures with Santa, which means our advent calendar will remain incomplete.”

I rubbed my hand on her shoulder.“I’m sorry, Nan. I know you were excited about this.”

The radio switched toCarol of the Bells, and we sat quietly listening to the lyricless tune. When the music reach a crescendo, Nan shouted,“Oh!”

My heart sped to match pace with the bells.“Don’t do that,” I cried. “I’ve had enough shocks for one day, thank you very much.”

“Sorry, dear, but I just had the most wonderful idea.”

I raised both eyebrows and waited.

“We can switch today’s calendar item with the one I had scheduled for the twenty-third. We don’t have to miss any days, after all.”

I chuckled.“Great. What were we supposed to do on the twenty-third?”

“Why, solve a murder mystery, of course,” she told me with a wink and then sped out of the parking lot with glee.

9. HOPPY HOLIDAY HOMICIDE

Chapter One

Hi. I’m Angie Russo, and while you may not immediately recognize it, I’m probably one of the most unusual people you’ll ever meet.

Why?

Well, how many other people do you know who can communicate with animals? And, no, I’m not talking meows, woofs, and chirps. We have actual conversations, and we even solve crimes together—but I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Before I say any more—shhh!—my strange ability is a secret that must be protected at all costs. Not because I’m in danger or anything, just because I’d rather people not know.

Okay?

And, no, I’m not a witch, werewolf, or other kind of fictional supernatural creature. I’m just a normal girl in her late twenties who got electrocuted by an old coffee maker and woke up with the power to communicate with animals.

First, it was just the one cat, Octo-Cat as I call him. He was in the room when I got zapped. We were both there for a will reading, me as the lowly paralegal and him as the primary beneficiary.

When he realized I could understand him, he revealed that his late owner had been murdered even though everyone thought the rich old lady had died of natural causes. Turns out that wasn’t what had happened at all.

She’d been murdered, and now he needed me to help him prove it.

Well, we got justice for Ethel Fulton and eventually wound up living in her stately manor home. Since none of the relatives wanted Octo-Cat and I really, really wanted him, we ended up together, too.

We live with my eccentric grandmother, who’s known around these parts simply as Nan. A few months ago, we also adopted a rescue Chihuahua named Paisley. She’s the sugar to Octo-Cat’s spice, and the cute little thing can never say a bad word about anyone…

Well, except the naughty raccoon named Pringle who lives in our backyard. He used to live under the porch, but then he kind of blackmailed us into building him a custom treehouse—two treehouses, actually. Oh, boy, is that a long story.

Speaking of long stories, I’ve got several of those. Just you wait.

You see, a lot has changed in the months since Octo-Cat and I officially opened our P.I. business together. We haven’t had a single paying client yet, but we’re still getting tons of experience by accidentally stumbling into one mystery after the next.

Hey, whatever works. Right?

Oh, also, I’m in love with my boyfriend and former boss, Charles Longfellow, III—although I haven’t exactly told him that yet. Octo-Cat is also in a long-distance relationship with a former show cat and minor Instagram influencer named Grizabella. And he never stops telling her—or anyone who will listen—just how much he loves her. He’s even started giving me guff about how slow Charles and I are moving by comparison.

Then there’s the fact that we’ve discovered Nan isn’t actually biologically related to me or my mom, but we’re still working on digging up the full story there. Yes, this entire time, she hasn’t understood the reason we were shoved together, either.

On the positive side of that crazy bit of news, we have connected with long-lost family in Larkhaven, Georgia. I was supposed to visit them last month, but a murder derailed our travel plans just a bit. So, instead, my cousin Mags showed up here and is staying through the end of the month.

Mags is a hoot, and we all love her. She and I have so much in common and look so much alike that I sometimes wonder if we’re not actually twins instead of just cousins.

She’s a couple years older than me, though, and as far as I can tell, she’s completely normal. Her family owns a candle shop in her town’s historic district, and she’s promised to teach Nan and me how to make our own candles before she heads back home.

We have lots to do before that happens, though.

For one thing, it’s almost Christmas. Nan keeps all of us busy with the custom advent calendar she made at one of her community art classes, and today we’re also scheduled to head into town for the twelfth annual Holiday Spectacular!

The Holiday Spectacular is a time-honored tradition for our small town of Glendale. People come from all over Blueberry Bay to gather around the big tree downtown, compete in the ice sculpture competition, and celebrate Christmas with the staggering variety of small businesses downtown.

We get everything from hot cocoa stations to learning Christmas carols from around the world to meeting local authors and getting signed books from them to…

Well, each year is completely different, and that’s what makes it so much fun. I can’t wait to show Mags my hometown at its best. I hope she’ll love it every bit as much as I do.

Hey, look at that, it’s time to go find out!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

I smacked my lips together after dragging my new cranberry red lip stain across them. Perfect for the holidays. Normally, I wore very little makeup, since my clothes made enough of a statement without any outside help. Lately, though, Nan had begun insisting I put a little more effort into my appearance. She claimed it was for all the holiday festivities, but I suspected she secretly hoped that my glamorous new efforts might rub off on my cousin, Mags.

It’s not that Mags was plain, but she did prefer a simple, non-fussy wardrobe. While working in her family’s candle shop in the historic district, she sometimes wore old-fashioned clothing with big skirts and a bonnet—and I suspected that was all the fuss she could handle. I didn’t blame her for wanting to keep it easy during her leisure time.

Mags’s signature knock sounded at my bedroom door—three short, one long, two short again.

“Come in!” I called, turning away from the mirror and toward the door.

Mags wore a white button-down shirt and white skirt with white flats. Her white-blonde hair fell midway down her waist, and her fair skin had not a stitch of makeup on it. She looked like a snow angel… or a ghost.

“Can I borrow an outfit from you today?” she asked with a frown. “I think I’m letting Nan down with my color choices.”

I laughed.“Don’t worry about Nan. I let her down constantly. She still loves us both, though.”

“She offered to let me wear something from her wardrobe, but Angie—” Mags dropped her voice to a whisper and motioned for me to lean closer. “Everything’s hot pink!”

We broke apart in giggles.

“Seriously, though, please help a cousin out,” she begged, joining her hands in front of her and shaking them at me.

I skipped toward the closet, loving every minute of having my long-lost cousin here. I couldn’t believe we had little more than a week left together. I was going to miss her so much when she went back home.

“How’s this?” I asked, tossing a Santa-print party dress at her. It was the same one I’d worn when we took the pets to get their pictures done with Santa at the pet shop in Dewdrop Springs. While it was one of my favorites, I had tons of holiday wear that hadn’t made it out of the closet yet this year.

That was the thing about doing most of my shopping at Good Will: everything was so cheap and went toward a good cause, so I had zero issue indulging my addiction. Today I wore a pair of jeans with the ugliest Christmas sweater I owned—it had giant pom-poms stuck in a huge ring to form a three-dimensional Christmas wreath, complete with jingle bells and a giant satin ribbon.

It was wretched, and I adored it.

“This is perfect,” Mags said after a quick appraisal of the dress.

“Goes good with pigtails,” I said.

She turned crimson.“I think that’s perhaps a little too much for today.”

Octo-Cat trotted in with Paisley following close behind.

“Mommy, you look gorgeous!” the Chihuahua cried.

“One day that sweater will be mine,” my tabby swore. “You can’t tell me that’s not meant to be a cat toy. Look at all those mischievous floofs!”

Well, he had me there.

“Mommy, can I come, too?” Paisley asked, her tail wagging so fast that it was little more than a black blur.

“She can’t talk to us in front of Mags, genius,” Octo-Cat said, looking bored with the whole thing.

Mags smiled at me, probably wondering why I had suddenly stopped talking when the animals entered. Let’s just say it was incredibly hard to keep my secret from her, especially considering she was family. Still, the fewer people who knew, the better. And I didn’t know if she would even believe me. I didn’t want to send her screaming back to Georgia and ruin our relationship with the rest of the family before we even got the chance to meet them.

Just one more week to go. I could keep my secret for that long…

Um, right?

Chapter Two

Mags looked absolutely adorable wearing my Santa-print dress. She complemented the look with a fuzzy white beret and then asked for my help applying that new cranberry stain to her lips and a bit of blush to her cheeks.

“Selfie time!” she cried, maneuvering her phone to capture a photo of us from several angles.

“Wow, we really do look alike,” I said when she showed me the resulting pictures. Despite her fairer coloring, we both had the same brown eyes, perky nose, and heart-shaped face. She had the perfect poise of a supermodel while I had somehow managed to give myself a triple chin and the viewer a front-row view straight up my nostrils.

This right here was why I didn’t find myself addicted to social media the way so many others in my age bracket tended to be. I’d much rather be behind the camera than in front of it, but if given the choice, I’d go for no cameras at all. I could thank being raised by two newscasters for that.

“You’re way more photogenic than me,” I mumbled as Mags texted our selfie to a few family members back in Georgia. I hadn’t met any of them yet and wasn’t super thrilled with the awful photo being one of their first introductions to me.

“It comes with lots and lots of practice,” Mags revealed with a coy smile. Unlike me, she seemed much more comfortable interacting with people online as opposed to in person. “I’m on screen a lot for my candle-making videos, so I’ve learned my angles.”

“Girls!” Nan called from the bottom of the stairs that led to my bedroom tower. “Ready to paint the town red? And green?” She chuckled at her own joke as she moved down the grand staircase and into the foyer.

Mags looked to me for confirmation as she stuck her phone into her small handbag and pulled at the hem on her borrowed dress.

A huge smile crossed my face as I yelled,“Coming!”

Mags, the animals, and I pounded down the two flights of stairs to the foyer where Nan had relocated to bundle up in an eclectic assortment of bright pink winter wear.

Nan pulled out a tiny brown jacket and knelt to the ground.“Paisley, come here, you sweet dog!”

The Chihuahua ran, her whole back half wiggling with joy.“Yes, Nan. Coming, Nan. I love you, Nan.”

While she called me“Mommy,” her greatest loyalty definitely lay with Nan. I’d asked her about that once, and she said that she couldn’t remember what it felt like to have a mother since she’d lost hers when she was still too young to remember. Since Nan insisted on being calledNan by everyone who knew her—and because she couldn’t communicate with Paisley the way I could—the little dog had taken to referring to me asMommy.

She stood mostly still now as Nan worked her legs and head through the little brown jacket, which upon closer inspection was actually a reindeer costume. The hood had two tall, erect antlers that put Paisley off balance somewhat as she hopped away from Nan and attempted to prance about the house.

“Mags, you look lovely,” Nan said as she straightened back into a standing position. “And you’re well-matched to Paisley in that Santa dress, which is good because I’ll need you to keep an eye on her while we’re out.”

“Oh, are you not coming?”

Nan shrugged into her hot pink coat lined with black faux fur around the collar and cuffs.“Of course I’m coming. But I need both arms for hugging all my old friends who only journey home for the holidays. Paisley will have a much better time with you.”

I stepped forward and grabbed Octo-Cat’s neon green leash and harness from the back of our coat closet. He hated having to wear it, especially since he’d gotten better about being off leash during our outdoor adventures. Unfortunately for him, I’d be with Mags the whole time today, which meant I couldn’t use our ability to converse to keep him in line.

At the end of the day, safety won every time, which meant the harness was non-negotiable. Of course, that didn’t stop my cat from trying.

“I’m not wearing that,” he said, glaring at me as he spoke. “Last time you put it on me, Santa Claus got murdered. And before that, you granted me a favor in exchange for my compliance. That was a long time ago, so as far as I’m concerned, you owe me a whole new favor if you expect me to wear that thing today.”

I shook my head and bit my tongue to keep from talking. The favor he’d tricked me into granting was the purchase of this giant manor home, since he didn’t like my previous rental. As much as I liked the luxe estate now, I didn’t think him wearing the harness a handful of times over the past year and a half was anywhere near equivalent of an ask.

I reached for Octo-Cat with both hands and he swatted at me.

“No, Angela. No!”

“I don’t think he wants to wear that,” Mags said with a nervous laugh. “Why are we bringing him, anyway? It seems to me that an outdoor festival wouldn’t be very fun for a cat.”

“Trust me, I’ll never hear the end of it if I leave him behind,” I said, then quickly added, “He’ll be yowling for days to punish me, and mostly at night, because he’s got an evil streak a mile wide.”

“Smart cat.”

“You have no idea.” I chuckled with relief. You’d think I’d be better at minding my secret after so much time, but you’d be very, very wrong.

“Well, here.” Mags grabbed Octo-Cat so quickly neither he nor I saw it coming. “Let me help.”

He struggled and spun in her arms, but Mags held on tight while I worked the harness onto his furry little body.“You will live to regret this, Angela, and it might not be all that long.”

I set him on the ground and stifled a laugh as he took a couple steps, twitched, and then frantically began to lick his fur where it touched the neon green straps.

“Are we all ready to go?” Nan asked cheerfully, completely unbothered by the angry kitty standing near her feet. While Octo-Cat generally held me to a higher standard of behavior and let Nan’s foibles pass by unmentioned, one of these days, he’d get her, and he’d get her good. Hopefully, he’d at least wait until after the holidays.

A minute later we’d all piled into my sedan, and less than fifteen minutes later we’d arrived downtown for Glendale’s Holiday Spectacular.

Even though it was early, we had to park several blocks away in order to get a spot.

“Wow,” Mags said when downtown finally came into view. “It’s like we’re inside a snow globe.”

We had half a foot of snow at best, but Mags never got white Christmases at home in Georgia, so I let her enjoy the moment without explaining the snowfall was actually light for this time of year.

“Welcome! Welcome to the Holiday Spectacular!” Mr. Gable, the owner of our only local jewelry store and the head of the planning committee, greeted us with his pet rabbit in one hand and an old-fashioned camera in the other. He wore a Santa costume without the classic fur-trimmed coat, revealing black suspenders on top of his thick wooly undershirt. “Have a seat on the sleigh. Let Santa and E.B. take your picture.”

“E.B.?” Mags asked as she and I slid into the rear seat of the sleigh and Nan jumped up front with both animals.

“It’s short for Easter Bunny,” I explained, having just met the bunny for the first time myself earlier that month when we went to the pet store for photos with Santa and ended up solving a murder mystery instead. “Apparently, she was an Easter gift for the grandkids gone wrong. He was quick to rescue the bunny and give her a better life, and the two have been together ever since.”

Mr. Gable set E.B. in the nearby nativity scene which had been lined with hay and outfitted with food and water for the little rabbit, then he stepped forward to take our picture.

“Do you see that?” Octo-Cat demanded just as Mr. Gable instructed us all to say cheese. “That ridiculous rabbit has the exact same harness as me. I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life. Oh, you will pay mightily for this, dear Angela.”

Sure enough, E.B. also wore a neon green harness, although she didn’t seem to mind nearly as much as Octo-Cat did. In fact, she’d already fallen asleep cuddled up sweetly in baby Jesus’s manger.

Chapter Three

After getting our photo snapped at Santa’s sleigh, we made our way over to the extreme cocoa station. Here, festivalgoers could order crazy custom concoctions with more flavor and mix-in varieties than even made sense for a cup of hot chocolate.

Seeing as we’d arrived at the very start of the festival, the crowds were still sparse, and that came with the added bonus of no lines. Mags and I stepped right up to the outdoor counter and ordered the unicorn drink made with white chocolate and swirled with raspberry, rainbow marshmallows, pink drizzle, sprinkles, and a gold-and-white candy cane horn. We watched in awe as the barista whipped up our order.

Nan took this opportunity to shout a quick goodbye and then disappear on the arm of a comely silver-haired gentleman I don’t think I recognized. Nan knew everyone both in town and outside of it, but she hadn’t dated a single soul since my grandpa’s death more than a decade earlier. Judging by her coquettish laughter and sparkling eyes, I’d definitely have to learn more about this mysterious new friend of hers.

For now, however, I’d simply focus on this special time spent with my cousin and our two favorite animal companions as downtown Glendale did what it does best—celebrate the season.

“There you are,” my mother crooned, rushing over to saddle both me and Mags with giant warm hugs. “Merry Christmas! Happy Holiday Spectacular!”

“Merry Christmas Eve, Mom,” I said, grabbing my freshly delivered unicorn cocoa from the pop-up table and dropping a tip in the barista’s gift-wrapped jar. It felt a bit odd to be wishing her a happy eve when it was hardly even ten o’clock in the morning.

The Spectacular ran from ten in the morning to ten at night, giving people all day to drop by and enjoy the festivities. Most favored the night hours because of the majesty and wonder added by the light displays, but I knew the committee was working hard under Mr. Gable to get more folks coming out early and spreading a steady stream of business out over the entire day.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, then took that first decadent sip of my sugary drink.Mmm.

Mom studied her reflection using her camera’s selfie mode and fluffed up her hair as she answered. “The first reindeer game is about to begin, so naturally he’s covering it for the station. It’s the three-hooved race, sure to be a lot of fun.”

Dad did the sports report for the local news while Mom was an anchor. She covered a lot of human-interest pieces around Maine, especially now that their broadcasts were viewed regionally, thanks to her role in solving the beloved Senator Harlow’s murder.

And, naturally, the Holiday Spectacular had been big news since it first started. Tourists now came from out of state to celebrate the season with us, and each year, the festival became bigger and bigger, thanks in part to Mom’s ace coverage of the event and to the expert leadership under Mr. Gable.

“I need to get back,” Mom said, glancing back over her shoulder toward the games field. “But I saw the two of you from across the way and figured I’d dash over to ask a quick favor.”

“We’d be happy to help,” Mags said as she held Paisley tucked under one arm and the steaming souvenir mug filled with cocoa in her other hand. “Just tell us how.”

“Great. It shouldn’t take too much of your time, but it is really important. I’m afraid the judges for the ice sculpture competition are no-shows. Would the two of you mind filling in?”

“Not at all,” Mags said, shaking her head so hard, some of her cocoa splashed onto the freshly shoveled street below. “Oops! Sorry about that. It sounds like a lot of fun judging, though. I’d be happy to help, if Angie is up for it.”

“Wonderful. We have over thirty entries, if you can believe that, but you don’t need to write up score cards or anything. Just pick first, second, and third place, and text me with what you decide. The ice sculpture garden is at the far end of our setup near the bridge and the little park. Think you can find it?”

“I know we can,” I answered, taking a step toward Mom but being unable to go any farther without yanking my stubborn cat who refused to move from the spot. “Now go get back to Dad before you miss out on that race.”

“Will do,” Mom said, already jogging back in the direction from which she’d come. “Thanks again, girls.”

“What do you say? Should we go now?” Mags asked, then took that first tentative sip from her half-emptied unicorn cocoa. Her eyes grew wide and her head shot back. “Wow, that’s a lot of sugar.”

I took another swig of mine and moaned in pleasure.“If you ask me, it’s exactly right. Then again, you probably don’t eat Nan’s homemade baked goods every day of the week.”

“I wish I did, though!” Mags enthused as we wound our way through the fancifully adorned streets.

We strolled past a number of local craftsmen and women peddling their wares, and I spied a particularly eye-catching necklace that I wanted to make sure we came back for once our judging duties were behind us.

Mags stopped dead in her tracks and gasped with glee.“Whoa, are those live reindeer?”

I laughed at the look of wonder that overtook my cousin. I’d been coming to the Holiday Spectacular since it was first founded twelve years ago, but I was sure seeing it all for the first time would make anyone drop their jaws to their chests like Mag was now.

“Yup, eight of them. There are also sheep, goats, pigs, and even a camel. It’s a full petting zoo. Part Santa’s workshop and part little town of Bethlehem.”

“We’ve gotta come back.” Mags grabbed my hands and gave one last longing look toward the animals. “I’m petting every single thing they’ve got in there.”

“I promise we will,” I said, squeezing both of her hands then letting go.

“I’d rather not spend my precious time around stinky, sweating cattle,” Octo-Cat groused.

Well, too bad for him.He’d complain about whatever we did, and Mags was truly excited to come back and spend time among the reindeer.

We strode past more pop-up restaurants, merchants, and local groups manning their booths, progressing nearly a full block in our trek before Mags ground to a halt once again.“Candles!” she cried. “Oh my heart!”

I nodded toward the pair of women sitting outside the tent. Mags had already disappeared inside where it was dark, save for the glow of tealight candles set up carefully around the inside.

“She makes candles for a living,” I explained to the ladies sitting outside the tent. I felt odd standing here with them while Mags was inside but knew better than to take my cat and dog into a space with open flames. “Yours are beautiful. How much are they?”

“We’re not selling the candles,” the younger of the two women explained with a kind smile. “We make and sell menorahs. Other members of our synagogue are also set up selling potato latkes a few booths down.”

“Oh, for Hanukkah. I’ve never celebrated myself but have always loved the story about the Maccabees and the miracle of the oil.”

“It’s not just a story,” the older woman said. “It’s God working miracles. He still does that to this day, you know.”

“How much is this?” Mags asked, rejoining us with a small silver menorah in her hands.

The women told her the amount, and she handed over a couple twenties.“Thank you. I will cherish it always. Happy Hanukkah.”

“Happy Hanukkah,” the women called after us as we continued toward the ice sculpture garden.

“They have a bit of everything here. Don’t they?” Mags asked.

“You have no idea,” I said with a giggle. “Just wait until we check out some of the reindeer games.”

“I’m glad we got here nice and early. There’s so much to do, I’m afraid we won’t have time for it all.”

“Well, here’s the ice sculpture garden. Let’s make sure we give each contestant fair consideration, then pick our winners and get back to the streets.”

We crossed the road and entered the park where rows of enormous and intricately carved ice statues stood in a spiral configuration. A sign at the beginning of the path read:“Start here and follow the path until you reach the center. Once there, follow the red ribbon for a shortcut back to the start. Enjoy!”

“It’s like the Guggenheim,” I said, thinking of the fantastic museum I’d studied during my humanities coursework. “You never have to turn or think about where to go next, freeing you up to enjoy art for art’s sake.”

“Look at this one!” Mags cried, already a few sculptures down the path and admiring the carving of a swan splashing into water with wings spread wide. “Isn’t it lovely?”

“How about this one?” I said pointing to a giant, elaborate snowflake. “It must have taken so much time to get all the details exactly right.”

“It’s sad that this gorgeous art is all going to melt away.” Mags stood in front of the statue of a woman wearing a gorgeous flowing gown now. “And it’s going to be very hard to pick just three to win.”

“Let’s start by just looking. Then when we reach the center, instead of taking the shortcut out, we can walk through again and try to make a short list of our favorites.”

Mags nodded.“So far, everything is my favorite.”

“It may take a few back and forths,” I agreed. “So let’s get started.”

We walked through the spiral, admiring sculptures of animals, people, nature, and even abstract creations. Hardly any time had passed at all before we wound up in the center, and a swatch of bright red caught the corner of my eye. I turned toward it, expecting to see the promised ribbon that would guide festivalgoers out of the garden and prevent traffic jams.

Instead I saw deep pools of crimson marring the otherwise pristine snow.Blood.

Chapter Four

My eyes darted to Mags, who stood trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Is that b-b-blood?” she stammered, allowing Paisley to leap from her arms to the ground below. I hated it when the small dog took these bold leaps, but somehow she never seemed to get hurt when she collided with the ground.

Octo-Cat yanked on his leash.“Of course it’s blood, genius. What else would it be?”

I glowered at him, sorely wishing I could reprimand him for being so insensitive in this delicate situation.“Yes,” I whispered carefully to Mags. “And where there’s blood, there may be a body. At least that’s been my experience. Wait here while I take a look around.”

Mags trembled even more violently and refused to meet my eyes. She kept her gaze fixed on the deep red as it crept through the snow, feeling more dangerous with each new inch it gained. Her hands shook harder and harder, sloshing the remaining cocoa from her mug.

Wow.Maybe Mags and I weren’t quite as similar as I had once thought. While I didn’t exactly enjoy finding myself in these situations, I’d learned to mostly control my emotions so that I could focus on the mystery rather than the horror. Mags, on the other hand, had already become a terrified, blubbering wreck—as most normal people would, I supposed.

I ran forward and took the cup from her, then set it on the ground with mine. Both of us had most definitely lost our appetite for the sweet stuff, anyway.

Paisley nuzzled my leg with her snout.“Mommy, is there a bad guy nearby? Is he going to hurt us?”

Without thinking, I scooped the little dog up, placing her under one arm, and grabbed Octo-Cat with my other.

“Angela, unhand me. I am not your cuddle toy. That’s what this one’s for,” he said, jerking his head toward Paisley.

I remained quiet as we crept between the ice sculptures, searching for the source of the blood. It didn’t take long for me to spot a large hand lying palm up beside a sculpture of a Christmas tree. I swallowed hard and stepped in for a closer look. There I found not one but two fresh corpses—one facing the sky with unseeing eyes and the other face down in the cold snow. From above, a light sprinkling of snowflakes danced through the air and landed on the bodies, giving them an impromptu beginning to their burials.

“Are these the missing judges?” I whispered.

“That would be the obvious conclusion,” my tabby said, squirming beneath my arm.

My own blood ran cold as I wondered why someone would resort to murder and whether Mags and I were now at risk, having been the ones to take their places.

That’s when I saw a thick glistening spear of ice rising from the smaller corpse’s back. She’d been impaled by an icicle, and it was already beginning to melt. Fat water droplets ran down the spear and drenched her already blood-soaked jacket.

I turned back toward the man expecting to find a similar weapon emerging from his chest, but there was no murder weapon to be found. I briefly searched for any signs of strangulation, stabbing, gunshot wounds, or any other method of murder I’d come across in my year and a half as an investigator.

Nothing.

Paisley, dressed in her elaborate reindeer costume, leapt from my arms and crept over to the victims and licked at their cheeks.“Mommy, Mommy, are they going to be okay? Will they wake up soon?” This made me realize that Paisley hadn’t seen nearly as many dead bodies as Octo-Cat and I had in our day. Poor thing was probably every bit as terrified as Mags.

Octo-Cat curled his upper lip, content now to remain in my arms.“Surely even you can’t be that dense, dog.” He loved his Chihuahua sister and only took to calling herdog when he was feeling particularly superior, which, I guess, was still quite a lot of the time.

“Quiet,” I muttered almost absentmindedly. “Let me think.”

“A-A-A-Angie,” Mags stuttered, her voice rising above the tall sculptures and crashing back down on me. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” From the tone of her voice, she clearly already knew the answer. Still, I’d need to tell her what I’d found, then we’d have to tell the authorities together.

With one last lingering glance toward the poor people who had come to enjoy the Holiday Spectacular but had ended up as dead as grandma after she got ran over by the reindeer, I took a deep centering breath and returned to my cousin.“We need to find Officer Bouchard and let him know there’s been a murder.”

Mags cried out as if in physical pain.“Really? A murder? Here? But, but… everyone seems so nice.”

I frowned as I tried to remember a time when I had been so innocently optimistic. Never,I thought. I’d always been too bookish not to be at least somewhat suspicious of the world around me. I used to consider myself paranoid, but that was before bodies started piling up whenever I was near.

Mags stared at me with wide eyes as she waited for an answer that wouldn’t come. She wanted me to take it back, to make everything okay again, but I simply couldn’t.

Instead, I nodded.“Yes, unfortunately. Actually, there’s been two. And we have to get the police. Now.”

I dropped Octo-Cat into the snow and grabbed Mags by the hand, yanking her along as I wound my way back through the spiral garden.

Octo-Cat followed behind on his leash, yelling the most profane kitty curses that had ever spilled off his sandpaper tongue. He could be angry for all I cared. Some things were more important than following the many elaborate and contradictory rules he’d established to govern our lives.

Besides, unlike Paisley, he always landed on his feet.

I wasn’t quite so sure Mags and I would be as lucky, especially when a dark figure swept across the quiet garden moving quickly and coming straight for us.

Chapter Five

The dark figure drew closer, but still not close enough for me to make out his features or intent.

Mags yanked out of my hold and stopped cold, seemingly unsure of whether to run, hide, or do some strange combination of both. Instead of doing either, she stood a couple paces before me, frozen like a shocked deer on a lonely country road.

I braced myself for the worst and turned around to get a good look at the new arrival. His silver badge flashed brilliantly in the sunlight, set against a dark blue uniform shirt. He continued to close the distance between us quickly, concern pinching at his features.Not a threat. Not a threat at all.

“Officer Bouchard,” I cried, elated that he had found us and realizing that maybe I was still a bit paranoid, after all.

Mags visibly relaxed and took a tentative step toward us.

“I heard screams,” he said, moving his hand to the gun at his hip. “Is everything okay here?”

Mags’s face reddened as she tried to push an entire dictionary’s worth of words from her mouth at once. “Oh, it’s horrible. There’s blood. Lots of blood. Angie saw bodies. She said there’s two. People died. And I don’t know who they were or who killed them. But it’s so scary. Things like this never happen back home in Larkhaven. Aunt Linda says trouble won’t find you unless you go looking for it yourself. But I swear, we just wanted to enjoy the festival. And now Angie is acting like it’s up to us to figure out what happened here. I don’t know who the victims are. I don’t know who the killer is. I don’t know anything other than I think I need to go home.” Finally finished, her voice cracked, and Mags drew back into herself.

Officer Bouchard stayed on high alert.“Whoa there, slow down. Start by telling me who you are and how you discovered the bodies.”

I placed a hand on Mags’s shoulder to let her know that I could handle things from here. “Go get some latkes or more cocoa or gingerbread cookies, or something. I’ll catch Officer Bouchard up on what we discovered.”

“Should I go with her, Mommy?” Paisley asked from somewhere near my ankle.

“Mags,” I called after her. “Take Paisley with you.”

The little dog took off running and also barking, though for no apparent reason.

I watched until Mags scooped her into a cuddle, then I turned back to the waiting policeman.“Let me show you what we found.”

As we walked the short distance to the hulking Christmas tree sculpture and the bodies that lay behind it, I informed Officer Bouchard of the no-show judges and the last-minute change up that required Mags and me to take their places. I also explained that Mags was my cousin visiting from Georgia.

“I didn’t know you had family in Georgia,” he said, tilting his head to study me as we walked.

“Neither did we. At least not until a couple months ago. Anyway, here’s the crime scene.” I motioned toward the bodies, even though he couldn’t have missed them if he’d been blind in one eye and couldn’t see out the other.

“Are we done now?” Octo-Cat groused. “I know your imagination’s already running wild with a hundred thousand ideas of who done it and why. But I heard that the Little Dog Diner has a booth set up somewhere around here, and Octavius needs himself a lobster roll.”

It took all the strength not to roll my eyes at this expression of my cat’s misplaced priorities. Thankfully, I think I managed to pull it off. Studying the melting ice weapon, I asked the officer, “Do you know who they are?”

Officer Bouchard hooked his thumbs through his beltloops and rocked on his heels.“Can’t see the woman’s face, but the man I recognize as Fred Hapley. He sells health insurance all across the state, and I’m pretty sure he’s one of the missing judges you mentioned. If memory serves, he was also a last-minute addition.”

My breaths rose in icy little puffs as I thought about where we should take things from here.“My mom should be able to confirm it and let us know who the other judge was supposed to be and whether this is her. She’s not technically on the planning committee, but she’ll have memorized the setup before coming out as part of planning her news piece. Should I call her over?”

Officer Bouchard sucked air through his teeth.“Not just yet, if you don’t mind. Your mother’s a good woman and an ace reporter, but I need some time to investigate and call in backup before the press gets involved. You understand, don’t you?”

I nodded vigorously. No one understood my mother’s drive to get the story at any cost better than I did. “What are you going to do when festivalgoers start coming through the sculpture garden?” I asked, worried we’d end up creating a scene whether or not we wanted one.

He quirked one eyebrow.“You said you and your cousin are the new judges, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then why don’t you get her back here? And you two can guard the entrance so that nobody wanders inside.”

“There’s an exit, too,” I pointed out, searching for that red ribbon the sign had mentioned.

“Well, that’s perfect then,” he said with a grin. “There are two ways in, and there are two of you. I shouldn’t need long, but I sure do appreciate your help in keeping this under wraps.”

“Okay, let me go find Mags,” I said, hating to leave before we’d figured out much of anything.

“Finally,”Octo-Cat grumbled.“I’m starving. I may have even lost a life because of it. I can’t believe you’ve made me wait so long for my lobster roll.”

Little did he know his lobster roll was not even close to next on our agenda. I had to find Mags, and then I had to find out what had happened to the slain judge and the as-of-yet unidentified body.

Chapter Six

I found Mags at the latke stall, pushing potato pancakes dipped in applesauce into her mouth almost faster than she could chew them.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be coming back so soon,” she mumbled with one hand covering her mouth politely. “Otherwise, I would have saved you some.” Her face turned red with embarrassment. “I’m a nervous eater, you see. These things didn’t stand a chance.”

I laughed and shook my head, happy to see her at least a little more relaxed than she’d been a few minutes back. “No judgment here. We have to get back to help Officer Bouchard, anyway.”

Mags tossed her trash into a nearby canister and wiped her mouth with the side of her hand.“Are you sure we have to go back there? I don’t know if this kind of thing happens often here, but I’m not used to dead bodies turning up back home in Georgia.” She said this with more of a Southern twang than usual, no doubt longing for the safety of good ol’ reliable Larkhaven.

“Well, it’s kind of my job as a P.I.,” I explained with a shrug. “Although it’s not always murder. Sometimes I deal with other kinds of crooks, too.”

“But can’t we just enjoy the Holiday Spectacular? You’ve told me so much about it, and I’ve been looking forward to this part of our visit. Plus, you might not be scared that there’s a murderer on the loose, but I sure am. Maybe we can make a quick circuit and then get the heck out of here.”

I looped my arm through my cousin’s and marched back with her toward the ice sculpture garden. “We just need to do this one quick thing to help out Officer Bouchard, and then we’ll get back to the festivities, I promise.”

“Where’s my lobster roll?” Octo-Cat whined, then growled, then sighed in defeat. “Unhook me from this hideous torture device, and I’ll go grab one for myself, seeing as you’re proving to be rather useless today.”

Paisley growled from deep within her throat.“Don’t talk to Mommy that way. She’s busy being a superhero, and it’s our job to be her sidekicks.”

Octo-Cat tensed on the end of his leash. He definitely thought of himself as the Sherlock to my Watson, so Paisley’s suggestion that I was the one in charge was sure to rankle.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he said with a sneer, “she’s pretending we’re not even here. So, why do we owe her anything when there’s really no way to help?”

Now it was Paisley who whined as her prick ears fell back against her neck while her tail went between her legs.“Just because it’s not easy doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”

“Oh, dear sweet dogling, you have so much to learn. For starters, the best life should always be easy and also filled with sunspots and Evian and my long overdue lobster roll.”

Hard as it was to not jump into that particular conversation, I kept my eyes glued straight ahead and my feet focused on returning to the crime scene as quickly as possible.

Mags seemed to wilt more and more the closer we drew to the garden.

“Sorry for dragging you into this,” I offered with an apologetic smile. “But it will be over soon. He just needs the area secured until backup can arrive.”

We reached the sculpture of a crystalline rose that marked the start of the spiral viewing trail. I left Mags there and headed toward the exit.

“Wait! Where are you going?” she called after me, trembling uncertainty returning to her voice.

“I’ll just be over there, keeping an eye on the exit. If you take a few steps out onto the street, you’ll even be able to see me,” I explained calmly. “Text if you need anything, even if it’s just to chat and pass the time. We’ll be finished up here before you know it, and then we can let the police handle the rest. Okay?”

Mags nodded, but a row of worry lines stretched across her normally smooth forehead.“Great. But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’d really rather just find Nan and go home as soon as we’re able. I don’t feel so safe anymore.”

As much as I loved the Holiday Spectacular, I loved my cousin so much more and wanted her to leave Blueberry Bay with happy memories instead of horrible ones. I’d do whatever it took to salvage our holiday.

“That’s okay,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll make our own fun. How do fresh-baked cookies and a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie sound for tonight?”

Mags smiled bravely and bobbed her head.“Sounds like a plan, Ms. Pet Whisperer P.I.”

I chuckled as I walked away to take my place at the garden exit. First, though, I dipped into the center to let Officer Bouchard know Mags and I were on duty. Once I’d returned to the end of that red ribbon trail, I pulled out my phone and opened a group text with my mom and dad.

There’s been a murder in the ice sculpture garden.

Officer Bouchard is securing the scene while Mags and I make sure no one wanders in.

After that, we’re going to head home.

Mags is feeling a bit scared by everything.

Can you guys see that Nan gets home okay?

I asked in a series of fast texts.

Both my parents texted back immediately.

“Are you serious?” Mom’s read.

“Are you safe?” Dad asked.

“I’m fine,” I replied, “but I also don’t think we’ll be able to finish our judging duties before heading home.”

“Poor Mags,” Mom lamented with a frowny face emoji. “This is not the best introduction to our quiet corner of the world.”

Although I didn’t say it, I actually thought it was the perfect way to show my new cousin how life had been for us lately. Ever since I first met that snarky talking tabby a year and half ago, my entire life had been one danger, one investigation after the next.

Thanks to us, crime didn’t pay around these parts, but apparently it also didn’t rest. Not even for the holidays.

An incoming call lit up my screen. This one was from Nan.“What’s this I hear about you and Mags leaving early?” she demanded, though her voice remained cheerful.

“Well, the murders kind of cramp the style of our Holiday Spectacular,” I explained in a whisper, making sure none of the people further down the block heard.

“Well, that’s really too bad. Could you do me a quick favor and ask Mags if I can get her anything from the artist’s corner? I’m sure she’d at least like a souvenir or two. Right?”

I heard a deep voice speaking faintly on the other end but couldn’t make out the words. “Who’s there with you, Nan?”

“Just my friend, Mr. Milton,” she answered dismissively. “Now, can you ask Mags about those souvenirs for me, please?”

“Sure, I’ll check with her in a little bit. Right now, we’re guarding the crime scene, and there are two different entrances. It’s not a very good time to—”

“You’re at the ice sculpture garden. Aren’t you? That place isn’t very big. Just run over and ask her so that I know.”

I sighed but still followed her instructions. There was little point in arguing with Nan when she wanted something—especially something quick and relatively easy like this.

Clutching my phone tightly in one hand and Octo-Cat beneath my other arm, I power walked over to the front entrance of the garden with Paisley following close at my heels. I was just rounding the corner when I caught sight of Mags.

Her eyes were wide, and her fair features looked even paler than usual as a hooded figure dragged her into the back of a cargo van, slammed the door, and sped away…

Chapter Seven

I dropped everything I’d been holding into the fresh snowbank at the side of the road and took off running after the van.

“Even though I land on my feet, it still hurts to be dropped, you know,” Octo-Cat shouted after me.

But I had no time to respond. I put everything I had into following that van even though I knew I’d never be able to catch it on foot. Perhaps I would still be able to make out the license plate or catch a glimpse of the driver, something, anything to keep me connected with Mags.

I squinted hard at the departing vehicle, trying so hard. I didn’t wear glasses, but I’d always been a bit nearsighted due to my obsession with reading. And unfortunately for Mags now, I couldn’t make out a single digit beneath the dried mud that coated the plate.

I stopped running and bent over with my hands on my knees, gasping for breath while Paisley continued to run and bark up a storm drawing the curious stares of all who were near.

“Get back here, you bad guy!” the Chihuahua shouted. “It’s not nice to take people when they don’t want to be taken. Bad human, bad, bad.”

Once I caught my breath a little, I scanned the downtown area for Octo-Cat but came up short. Maybe he’d gone to get that lobster roll after all, or maybe he was off somewhere nursing his wounded pride—both at having been dropped so unceremoniously into the snow and at having been forced to wear the harness he so loathed.

A burst of bright pink flashed onto the scene. Nan had arrived, and unlike me, she didn’t appear winded in the slightest.

“You dropped this,” she said, pushing my fallen phone into my hand. “And you worried me silly. What happened?”

I couldn’t help the tears that splashed onto my cheeks. It was one thing to find the bodies of people I’d never know and quite another to witness my cousin’s kidnapping firsthand. It had been my job to look after her, to take care of her. And I’d really messed it up.

“They took Mags,” I said, my voice trembling in the same way hers had upon the discovery of the bodies in the ice sculpture garden. “They took her, and they’re gone.” Fresh tears welled, and I choked back a sob as Nan wrapped her arms around me and made a soft shushing sound.

“Oh, dear. Dear. Dear. Dear,” she repeated like a chant.

Her gentleman friend moved closer and placed a hand on Nan’s shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed his arrival earlier, but now here he was, pushing his way into this family moment.

“Who took her?” he asked in a deep rumble.

“I don’t know.” I kept my eyes on Nan instead of looking toward Mr. Milton. “I couldn’t see the face, but they put her into the back of a white van and drove away. I didn’t even get the license plate number.”

“Well, that’s a rotten thing to do and not with keeping the spirit of the season either,” Nan mumbled into my hair. “But we’ll get her back, I promise.”

I fell apart in my grandmother’s arms, asking her the many frantic questions that swirled through my mind. “What if it was the same people who killed the judges? What if they’re going to kill her, too? It’s all my fault. She doesn’t even know anyone here. I don’t understand. Why would they take her? I mean, why would anyone want to take Mags, especially someone who doesn’t even know her?”

A small paw patted the back of my calf. I turned around and bent down, expecting to find Paisley, but instead, it was Octo-Cat who sat there looking rather pleased with himself.

“Now that I’ve finally filled my stomach, I can think a little clearer,” he explained, then stopped to lick his paw and drag it across his forehead. I waited impatiently as he licked and dragged—licked and dragged half a dozen times—without providing further commentary.

Finally I blurted out,“Do you know something? Do you know who took Mags?”

He dropped his paw back to the ground and stared up at me with large amber eyes.

“I don’t know anything,” Mr. Milton answered, assuming I’d been talking to him. How could I have forgotten he was here? I needed to be more careful with my secret, no matter how much I was worried about my cousin in that moment.

“Of course I don’t knowthat,” Octo-Cat answered with an exasperated groan.“But I think I know something else that might help.” He paused again for emphasis, the way he so often liked to do when he was building the drama of the scene.

My cat’s love of theatrics would be the end of me one day. Quite literally. I’d probably have a heart attack while waiting out one of his dramatic pauses.

“Well?” I demanded, unable to take it anymore as I moved my hands to my hips. I shifted my eyes from the cat to Nan, pretending she was the target of my ire so that I’d at least have a cover in front of Mr. Milton.

Ugh. Why had she brought him along?

“Yeesh. So impatient.” My cat stopped again and stared at me, challenging me to push him again.

I bit my tongue and waited him out while Nan filled the silence to keep up our charade.

After several moments, Octo-Cat seemed appeased and blinked his eyes slowly before continuing.“Even though you’re being a bit rude, I’ll tell you what I know. You know how all humans look the same? You and Mags look even more the same than most.”

Even though I was pretty sure I knew what he was getting at, I asked for clarification, anyway.“What do you mean?”

Nan gave an answer, but my ears were focused firmly on Octo-Cat.

He shook his head, flicked his tail, and sighed yet again.“I mean whoever took Mags probably meant to take you instead. Think about it, and you’ll see that I’m right. As usual.”

Chapter Eight

The moment Octo-Cat spoke those words, I knew they were true. Mags didn’t know anyone in Blueberry Bay besides my family and me.

No one had any reason to take her.

True, she had no friends here, but also no enemies.

Me, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say I’d ruffled more than a few feathers during the course of my investigations. But was that enough for someone to want to kidnap me?

Rather than continue to puzzle over this myself, I decided to ask Nan. Even though I already knew I believed in Octo-Cat’s theory, I still had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that someone had meant me harm.

“Do you think the people who took Mags meant to take me instead? Everyone is always saying how similar we look, and well, maybe…” I let my voice trail off.

She bit her lip and nodded.“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?” she asked, shaking her head now.

Mr. Milton wrapped an arm around Nan’s shoulders and pulled her tight into his side. The familiarity of this gesture made my stomach turn over.

“Who would want to take her—or you—so badly that they’d risk doing it in the middle of a crowded festival?” he asked, his eyes boring into mine.

Although that was an appropriate question, it still rankled me. I wished Nan would ask Mr. Milton to go away and leave the investigation to us.

He was also wrong. The streets had begun to fill out a bit more as the morning wore on, but we still didn’t have anything near a crowd, especially in the mostly empty area that housed the ice sculpture garden outside of the main action.

Scanning the streets, I did a quick count and noticed four people in the nearby vicinity. If they’d seen what happened with the van, they certainly weren’t letting on. Those who had witnessed my frantic run had already departed, more than likely not realizing how serious matters had become.

Nan remained cuddled up against Mr. Milton, although the lovey-dovey look she’d had in her eyes earlier had long since flown the coop.

“It wouldn’t be that hard to sneak in and out with a plan,” she pointed out. “People will be coming and going all day, there’s parking in at least half a dozen different places, and many vendors are bringing their vans and SUVs in to load and unload. So, you see, it would be relatively easy to take her. Easier than it normally would be, at least.”

“We’re going with my theory, then. Right?” Octo-Cat asked impatiently. “Because I’m right about this, just like I’m right about most things. Really, you need to start listening a bit quicker.”

I nodded in response. While I also hated to waste time discussing already established points, I also couldn’t trust everything he said at face value. Not only was he often crabby and sarcastic, but some of his ideas were a bit too influenced by the melodramatic TV shows he liked watching before and after his morning and afternoon naps.

Octo-Cat sniffed the cold air above his head.“Are you answering me or simply humoring me? It’s so much harder when you’re not talking to me. Are we proceeding with the assumption that you were the target instead of Mags?”

“Yes,” I hissed partially under my breath. It’s like he didn’t care about keeping my secret at all.

“What was that?” Mr. Milton asked with a furrowed brow and a quizzical expression.

“Oh,uh,just talking to myself,” I stuttered as heat flushed my cheeks. “What I meant wasyes, Nan’s absolutely right. Anyone could have taken her, and the longer we wait to go after her, the harder it will be to find her. We need to do something, and we need to do it now.”

Nan wriggled free of his arm.“Yes, yes, we need to go after her.”

“But she could be anywhere,” Mr. Milton said with a sigh. “Someone dangerous could have her. We could be walking into a situation that we might not walk out of.”

I glowered at him, hating that he had any say in this at all.

“It’s what family does,” I said. “It’s what good people do. They show up. They help each other.”

“Especially at Christmastime,” Nan added, making a tsking noise as she shook her head dolefully. “It’s what we’re going to do.”

“Yeah, and if you’re not up for it, we can handle this ourselves,” I added, hoping that he would take the bait and make a run for it.

He cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on me with a bit of a grimace.“Well, I can’t leave you two lovely ladies on your own, especially when the situation could be dangerous.”

I shrugged.“Suit yourself.”

Then I turned toward Nan, intentionally facing away from Mr. Milton.“The first thing we need to do is call Mom and Dad and make sure they know what’s going on. We’ll need everybody working hard to find Mags—and let’s not forget, the ice sculpture murderer.”

“What a Holiday Spectacular this is turning out to be,” Nan pointed out grimly.

She turned to the side and faced Mr. Milton.“Would you please give us a moment, dear?” she asked with a slight smile.

“Oh yes. Oh yes, of course. I’ll just go get us some latkes. They looked good, and perhaps a hot snack is just what we all need now.” He stumbled away, clearly sore about Nan’s dismissal, but I was happy she’d done it and hoped she planned to avoid him during the rest of our search as well.

Her eyes flashed as she turned them on me, speaking quietly and quickly.“I’ll take care of the call to your folks,” she said. “You see what the animals know.”

“Already on it,” I said, nodding just once before scooping both animals up in my arms to Paisley’s delight and Octo-Cat’s disdain.

“Listen up, guys,” I said. “There are people down the block, so I can’t be too loud, and if anyone comes close, I might have to quiet up mid-sentence. Okay? Let’s chat. Did you hear anything? Or see anything? Or smell anything that can help us find out what happened to Mags?”

Octo-Cat shifted into a more comfortable position but still seemed put off by being clutched to my chest beside the wagging ball of Paisley.“They do this to cats all the time, you know. Come in vans, take us away, put us in the pound. I’ve never had to deal with such indignities, obviously, but nobody calls for reinforcements when it happens to us.”

Paisley whined and dipped her head.“It happened to me. That’s how I got to the shelter in the first place. After my first mom died, me and my brothers and sister were living in the street and so hungry we didn’t know what we were going to do. But then a big van came and took us to the shelter. It wasn’t quite as bad there, but then Nan came and found me, and everything was perfect, and it’s been perfect ever since.”

Octo-Cat rolled his eyes at her.“If you’re suggesting that Mags is better off because some random hooded guy in a van took her, then you would be very, very wrong. It doesn’t work the same way for humans as it does for us.”

Paisley whimpered again.“But you said if it were a cat…”

“I know what I said. Sometimes I just need to give Angela a hard time, so she knows I’m paying attention.”

Now I rolled my eyes.

“Paisley, sweetie,” I said softly, “thank you for telling me your story, but in this case, Octo-Cat is right. Whoever took Mags doesn’t want to help her.”

“Are they going to hurt her?” the little dog asked, shaking violently at the prospect

“I hope not,” I said in a strained whisper.

At the same time, Octo-Cat answered,“Yeah, probably.”

I choked back a sob.

If something happened to Mags, I’d never forgive myself. Not just because she’d come to Glendale on my account, but because the kidnapper had most likely meant to take me instead.

Would he be angry when he realized Mags was the wrong person?

Would he come for me, too?

Would he dispose of her?

Let her go?

Oh, how I wished I knew.

Chapter Nine

Mr. Milton returned with two orders of latkes about fifteen minutes after he first departed.

Nan accepted hers by giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

I shook my head and said,“No thanks,” still clutching Octo-Cat tight.

Paisley had already jumped down to dance at Nan’s feet.

Honestly, there was so much fear in my stomach already that I didn’t have much room for anything else.

They made quick work of their snack while I racked my brain trying to figure out how best to proceed.“I’m going to go find Mr. Gable,” I announced before heading decisively to the right, leaving them both behind.

“Mommy! Mommy! I’m coming, too!” Paisley cried, frolicking after Octo-Cat and me in her silly reindeer costume.

We found Mr. Gable in the same place I left him earlier that morning—at the main entry to the festival dressed up as a jacketless Santa while guiding visitors into his sleigh for the perfect photo op.

His bunny sidekick E.B. sat nearby in the nativity scene half covered in hay and looking hilariously out of place as a life-size bunny nestled among miniature plastic shepherds, wisemen, cows, camels, and angels.

Mr. Gable finished with the family of four he was photographing, wished them a Merry Christmas, and then turned toward me, concern furrowing his brow.

“Why, Angie… Why do you look so out of breath? Are you coming from the latest reindeer game?” He chuckled in that soft, happy way that old men had, but not quite vibrant or boisterous enough to match his role as Santa.

Once again I was reminded that I needed to make some effort to get into better shape, especially since my seventy-year-old Nan could run circles around me—and often did.

“Mr. Gable, have the police been in touch with you?” I drew out my phone and looked at the time displayed on its screen. Surprisingly, little more than half an hour had passed since I’d told officer Bouchard about my discovery of the two corpses in the ice sculpture garden and even less time than that since Mags was taken.

Mr. Gable’s cheeks turned red to match mine. Now he looked more like Santa, which made me happy somehow. “Why would the police have been in touch? What happened?”

As much as I didn’t want to be the one to tell him, it looked like I had no choice. I caught him up on the discovery of the bodies and that we already knew at least one was a judge his committee had hired. I also told him how Mags had been kidnapped shortly after and hauled away in a speeding cargo van.

He stared at me for a moment, eyes wide and unblinking.“All that happened this morning? Right here at our Holiday Spectacular?” His voice cracked on that last syllable.

“Afraid so,” I answered with a frown. “Officer Bouchard is taking care of things at the crime scene. He’s already called for backup and I’m trying to figure out who took Mags and how I can get her back.”

That was one problem with living in a small town. We didn’t really have enough cops to handle the double homicide, let alone a kidnapping on top of that. That’s why my work as a private investigator was so important. Officer Bouchard had let me partner with him on investigations more than once for this very reason.

“What should we do?” Mr. Gable asked, his face turning from red to white to red again, a flashing display of his anxiety.

“We’ve been planning the Spectacular all year. Vendors have come from all over Blueberry Bay. Folks travel from out of town to be here. Hundreds more are on their way right now. Do we close everything down and call it a loss, or do we try to keep going despite the crimes that were committed here this morning?”

I shook my head, wishing I had an answer.“Seems like a lose-lose, no matter what you do. I wouldn’t want to be in your position.”

He sighed heavily and ran both hands through his thick white hair.“Ugh. This was not a responsibility I thought I’d ever have as chairman of the committee. But even if I’m the head, we are a team. I think I need to let the others weigh in before I make a definitive decision. Wouldn’t you say?”

I set Octo-Cat down on the front seat of the sleigh and then joined him on the bench.

Paisley pranced below, too short to hop up for herself. So I bent over and gave her a lift. She immediately licked my face, happy to be reunited after our fifteen-second separation.

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” I said, largely because I had no other ideas to offer. “I’ll stay here to greet people and take their pictures while you go talk with the others.”

“Oh, wonderful, wonderful,” he said, pushing the sleek digital camera into my hands. “Would you mind watching E.B. too? She’ll probably just sleep through everything. I have her leash tied to that back camel’s leg there, so she shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

“Of course we’ll keep an eye on her. No problem at all,” I assured him.

“Bunny-sitting duty? Gag me,” Octo-Cat moaned beside me.

Mr. Gable smiled quickly, but the slight look of happiness disappeared from his face in an instant, and he rushed off muttering something to himself.

I glanced toward the nearest parking lot but couldn’t see any new festivalgoers arriving. That meant I had a small bit of privacy and could talk to the animals again.

“I thought we were going to find Mags,” Paisley whined.

“That is what she said we were going to do,” Octo-Cat added. “But you know how fickle humans can be. Angela, how long are we going to be stationed here, away from the action?”

I wished I knew. There were a lot of things I wished I knew right about then, and only one new creature I could ask for information.

I slipped down from the sleigh’s bench seat and tiptoed toward the nativity display, careful not to disturb the rabbit. From last I remembered meeting her, she was a very nervous sort and I needed to see if she knew anything that could help me. If I frightened her, though, chances were she wouldn’t talk to me at all.

I needed to play this exactly right.

For Mags.

Chapter Ten

Once I reached the nativity display, I sat down gently beside the manger. An icy dampness immediately saturated my bottom, but I didn’t care.

“E.B.,” I said softly. “E.B., it’s me, Angie. We met at the pet shop when we were there for pictures with Santa. I don’t know if you remember me, but—”

The hay beside me twitched, and a little gray nose poked its way out, followed by two dark eyes.“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Who are you? What are you doing here? Where’s Mr. Gable? Are you going to eat me? Am I going to die? Is everything okay? Oh Merry Christmas, what a Christmas…”

Octo-Cat appeared at my side with a snarky grin stretched between his whiskers. I couldn’t tell whether he was here to help me or to have some fun at E.B.’s expense.

“Relax, rabbit,” he snarled. “She’s not going to eat you. But if you don’t cooperate, maybe I will.”

He laughed devilishly in the same way he did when he threw up outside my bedroom door, enjoying the means much more than the end. So he’d be helping me and making things more difficult at the exact same time.Great.

“Oh, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas!” E.B. sputtered, using the holiday greeting as a curse word. “I do not want to be eaten. I donot. I knew I shouldn’t have left home today. Mr. Gable made me, but I didn’t want to go. I just wanted to sleep at home and eat carrots, and oh!”

With a wildly flicking tail, my cat shouted,“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to what the lady has to say. No more of this ‘Merry Christmas’ business. You got me?”

The bunny nodded slowly, her long ears flopping in the hay.“I’m sorry,” she sputtered in fear. “I didn’t mean to make you angry, Mr. Cat. It’s just… I always have to be on alert or bad things can happen. Life isn’t so easy when you’re prey, you know? Anybody here could hurt me. Lots of bunnies don’t get the chance to live as long as I’ve lived already, and I want to keep on living. I love my human.”

Paisley joined us now. I had no idea where she’d been the last couple minutes, but we still seemed to be free of any newly arriving visitors, so I pressed on.

“Do you—” I began, but Paisley interrupted me, which was very uncharacteristic of her.

She let out a sad howl. Now her normally erect ears fell forward as she tilted her head and studied the bunny with an expression of sorrow.“Oh, you poor bunny. I can’t imagine what life is like for you. Do you want to talk about it? I’m a very good listener.”

I was just about to say something to get us back on topic when an increasingly perturbed Octo-Cat came to my rescue.

“Once again, this isn’t the Dr. Phil show, and we’re not here to talk about the bunny’s feelings. We need information. We need to find Mags. Keep your eye on the prize. Keep your head in the game. Yada yada. And all those other favorite human clich?s, too. Now,” he said, turning back to E.B.with flashing yellow eyes. “One of our humans has been kidnapped by dangerous men.”

The bunny gasped.

“Yes,” said Octo-Cat dramatically, nodding as he did. “Dangerous. And we need to get her back before it’s too late.”

He took two quick steps forward and unsheathed the claws on one paw demonstratively.“Now tell us what you know, rabbit.”

The bunny’s nose never stopped wiggling even as the rest of her body grew still with fright. “I don’t know what you expected of me,” she said weakly. “I’m sorry something happened to your human, but I don’t know anything about it. Now, please, can I get back to my nap?”

Octo-Cat licked his exposed claws while narrowing his eyes on the rabbit. I hadn’t realized my cat was such a mafioso when it came to the pets of Glendale. I’d have to monitor his television-viewing habits a bit more carefully, it seemed.

He began to speak, but I cut him off by placing a hand on his back.“More flies with honey than vinegar,” I mumbled.

“Who would want flies?” the tabby asked. “Disgusting and completely off topic.”

I rolled my eyes and focused them on E.B. “You’ve been here all morning watching as everyone comes and goes. Did you see anyone acting suspicious?”

“I see everything,” E.B. said with a nod before freezing up again. “That’s the difference between staying alive and becoming a snack.”

“Okay…” I said slowly, given that she hadn’t actually deigned to answer my question. “Did you see anyone suspicious?”

One of her ears twitched, then the other. “I find every predator suspicious,” she said. “Including you. And especially that cat.”

Octo-Cat laughed gaily as if this was the best thing he’d ever heard as well as all he’d ever wanted for Christmas.

“I understand,” I said slowly, once again hoping Mr. Gable wouldn’t get back soon so we could pursue more productive means of inquiry. “Was anyone more suspicious than the others? Or suspicious in a different way?”

E.B. thought about this. “Well,” she said at last. “Now that you mention it, yes. I did see some suspicious humans come through.”

Now we were getting somewhere.

Chapter Eleven

“Do you know who took Mags?” Paisley asked, wagging her tail hopefully as we all stared at E.B. waiting to find out what she knew.

“Who’s Mags?” the bunny asked distractedly. “Your human just asked me if I saw anyone suspicious.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I jumped in to steer the conversation back to the right path. “Tell me about those suspicious people.”

E.B. tentatively lifted one ear, then set it back down.“Lots of people have come through, and almost everyone stopped to say hello to Mr. Gable and get their picture taken, but a couple people seemed in too much of a hurry.”

“So you’re saying they refused to have their picture taken?” I asked to make sure I understood.

“They didn’t even let him ask. It was very strange to see a predator behave in that way. One of them was looking all around, back and forth, like I do when I’m trying to figure out if danger is nearby. The other moved very quickly and raced right past us without so much as a hello.”

“That is strange,” I agreed thoughtfully. “Can you tell me anything more about those two people? Did they come together? What did they look like? Did you recognize them?”

E.B. blinked slowly and wiggled her nose.“Everyone else got their picture taken, but not those two. They didn’t come at the same time, either. First one came, then some time passed, and then the other. I don’t know who they were.”

“Do you know, if they were male or female? Old or young? Can you describe how they looked?”

E.B. turned her head slightly, eyeing Octo-Cat for a moment before returning her attention to me. “I don’t know. All humans look the same, really. You don’t even have any special markings on your coats to help show the difference. It makes it hard to tell you apart.”

“Exactly,” Octo-Cat said, nodding. “Isn’t that what I’ve always said?”

E.B. flinched.“That’s all I know. I don’t know anything else. Please will you go away now?”

“Thank you for your help,” I told her, rising to my feet and dusting a light smattering of hay from my bottom, which by now was soaked completely through from the melting snow on the ground. So much for the hay creating a drying buffer. “We told Mr. Gable we’d watch you, but we can do that from a little bit farther away.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, watching us warily as we left the nativity scene.

“Well that was pointless,” Octo-Cat hissed. If I’d taken the moment to look over to him, I’m sure I’d have seen him rolling his eyes. “I’m so glad we took time to ask the bunny.”

“There’s a lot of things she did help us with,” I pointed out, raising the camera in one hand. “E.B. mentioned that there were two suspicious people and that neither had their photo taken.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Octo-Cat asked with a flick of his tail. “Look through all the photos on that thing and cross reference it with everyone who’s attended the festival so far?”

“For a start,” I said, impressed he had understood with no explanation on my part. Then again, he was becoming quite savvy with photography given his long-distance Instagram relationship with Grizabella.

“There’s more than one entrance into this place,” I continued on. “People can start from anywhere. There are, no doubt, many people who didn’t stop for a photo who perhaps never even made their way over here.”

“And,” Octo-Cat added, his amber gaze fixed on me knowingly,

“what’s suspicious to the rabbit might not be suspicious at all. So there were two people she thought were acting funny, but it’s possible that neither of them had anything to do with the murders or the kidnapping.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh, “but at least it’s a place to start.”

I powered the camera back on and flipped through the last few photos on display. Before I could make it very far, however, several people converged on us at once.

Nan and her gentleman friend, Mr. Milton, came from one direction while Mr. Gable returned from another. Lastly, my boyfriend, Charles, approached as well, immediately slinging an arm over my shoulder and giving me a kiss on my forehead.

“I finished up my work early at the firm and thought I’d surprise you,” he said with a giant grin. “So tell me, what did I miss?”

Mr. Gable groaned, Nan winced, and Mr. Milton looked pointedly at the ground.

Octo-Cat had an answer for him, but it was one he couldn’t decipher without my help. Also it wasn’t very nice.

Paisley barked and stood on her hindlegs, doing her sit pretty dance to get Charles’s attention.

“Hey,” he said, lifting her into his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead, too.

“Why is everyone so quiet?” he asked, his eyes darting around our impromptu circle. “I really did miss something, didn’t I?”

I put a hand on his shoulder and gently informed him both of the murders and the kidnapping as well as the fact that we were pretty convinced the kidnappers meant to nap me instead of Mags.

“All that in one morning?” he asked with an empty expression.

I nodded sadly.“I don’t know what to do,” I moaned. “Do you have any ideas?”

Mr. Gable cleared his throat.“I’ve spoken with the other committee members, and we all think it would be best to shut down the festival. We’re circulating word to the vendors now and giving them the option of setting up at the local park. We’ll man the exits and send anyone who comes by over there instead while the police are doing their thing.”

Mr. Milton nodded and raised a thumb and finger to his chin.“Lots to lose, canceling the biggest event of the year. Vendors aren’t going to be too happy about that.”

“They’ll lose money,” Nan agreed, “but at least they won’t lose their lives.”

“That’s the goal,” Mr. Gable agreed.

“Come on,” Charles said. “Let’s go find Mags.”

And even though I didn’t need my boyfriend to save the day, I was very glad he was now here at my side.

We would find Mags. We would.

I wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

Chapter Twelve

“Do you think the crimes are linked?” Charles asked me matter-of-factly as I led him toward the spot where Mags had been abducted. He carried Paisley while I carried Octo-Cat, who had the good grace not to complain this time.

“I just don’t know,” I answered, keeping my eyes on the ground as if it held some answer we had yet to discover. “I don’t think they are, but I also don’t want to overlook anything. Just in case.”

“Good thinking,” Charles said, squeezing my elbow since I required both of my hands to carry Octo-Cat comfortably, lest I wanted his complaining to pick up again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” Charles said.

“That’s okay. You didn’t know. How couldanyone know these terrible things would happen? And on Christmas Eve, too…”

Charles remained quiet for the next half block, becoming lost in thought as he so often did.“Do you think it’s possible they happened not despite it being Christmas Eve butbecauseit’s Christmas Eve?”

“What you mean?” I asked, risking a glance at him even though I needed to keep both eyes on the street in order to avoid bumping into one of the many departing vendors.

“Well, maybe the Holiday Spectacular gave our murderer and/or kidnapper an opportunity he wouldn’t have otherwise had. Or maybe the murderer is somehow related to the festival itself. You said the victims were meant to judge the ice sculpture contest. Right?”

“Well, at least one of them,” I answered. Thinking back, Officer Bouchard didn’t recognize the woman, and I hadn’t been back to chat with him because of what had happened to Mags.

“I know every second counts right now,” Charles told me as we neared the ice sculpture garden, “but let’s take a quick moment to check in with the police. They may have information that could help point us in the right direction for Mags, too.”

Less than two minutes later, we found Officer Bouchard standing with a couple other police personnel near the giant Christmas tree sculpture.“Angie,” he said. “I’m surprised you weren’t back before now.”

“Didn’t you hear? I asked, my voice dry and itchy. “Somebody took Mags. Kidnapped her right off the street.”

“Mags? Your nice cousin? But why?” His eyebrows pressed together. “And why wasn’t I informed before now?”

That was right. We hadn’t even stopped to inform the authorities of Mags’s abduction. Nan had probably assumed I would do it while I assumed she would. At least I could tell my favorite police officer now.

“It’s all been a blur,” I admitted “I can’t believe I forgot to come to you, but I know you’ve been busy over here.”

He sighed and rolled a kink from his neck. “Busy is an understatement.”

“Learn anything new?” Charles asked, shaking the officer’s hand hello. “Anything that might help us find Mags while you hunt the killer?”

“Hunt’s not exactly an appropriate word. Sounds like somebody’s been reading too many Stephen King novels,” the officer quipped. “But yes, we were able to confirm that the female victim was our second judge. A Miss Zelda Benedict. She taught art at the university in Portland and drove up special to serve as our judge.”

I sucked air in through my teeth. This just kept getting worse and worse.“What a way for us to make a good impression on outsiders.Come to Glendale’s Holiday Spectacular where you just might get murdered.”

“It is unfortunate,” Officer Bouchard agreed. “She was very well respected in her field. Her colleagues will no doubt ride us hard until we find out who the culprit is.”

“Did she have any connection to Fred Hapley?”

“As far as I know, the two of them never met a day in their life. At least not until they wound up dead side-by-side in the snow here. By the way, the murder weapon for old Fred was a gun. It must’ve had a silencer since no one reported hearing anything. But Zelda? She was stabbed straight through with an icicle.”

“Why not kill them both the same way?” Charles asked, wrapping an arm protectively around my waist and eyeing the nearby ice sculptures warily.

“That’s what we wondered, too,” Officer Bouchard said with a nod. “Seems to me that somebody had come prepared to commit one murder but then had to commit a second when Fred here walked in on the scene.”

“So we’re looking for someone who knew the festival well enough to plan a private moment with Zelda Benedict in the ice sculpture garden before most of the tourists arrived and the scene got busy. But also someone who didn’t know the agenda well enough to anticipate Fred Hapley’s arrival,” Charles summarized.

“That’s what we’re thinking.” Officer Bouchard bobbed his head and reached over to give Paisley a quick pat. “But now you tell me someone took your cousin, too. She didn’t arrive on the scene until after both judges were slain and the murderer had disappeared. So why would someone take her?”

“The murderer disappeared from view, but maybe he stayed close to keep an eye on things,” I ventured, hugging Octo-Cat tight to my chest for strength. “Maybe he watched us the entire time as we discovered the bodies, talked with you, and then got ready to guard. But then why wouldn’t he take me too?”

“Unfortunately, we’ve got a lot of questions and very few answers so far.” Officer Bouchard hung his head and sighed. “I’ll call Mags’s kidnapping in to the station. Even though our men are occupied with the homicide scene here, the neighboring police forces are all on standby given thesize of our event, and the folks in Dewdrop Springs have dealt with their fair share of kidnappings over the years. They really are the experts on that kind of thing while murders are becoming far too common in our little town.”

“Thank you for your help,” I mumbled, hating everything about how this day was turning out.

“I wish there was more I could do. But if I know you, you’re already halfway to finding her yourself.”

We said goodbye, then Charles, the animals, and I headed toward the spot where I’d last seen Mags before she was hauled away and this whole nightmare had gone from bad to worse.

Hopefully we would find a definitive clue soon. I still didn’t know where to go in the search for my lost cousin, and as time ticked steadily on, my heart sunk lower and lower.

“Please, God,” I mumbled in a nearly silent prayer, looking toward the sky as fat snowflakes fell to the earth. “Please let her be okay.”

Chapter Thirteen

Even though the snowfall had remained light that morning, it had also been consistent. That meant the footprints I’d left when I chased after the van that took Mags had already mostly filled in with fresh fall. Nearly a dozen other pairs of prints wove through the street and around the block, too, adding a new layer of difficulty to retracing my steps.

More and more people had begun to arrive for the festival, only to be turned right back around and sent on their way. Could this be the end of their town’s most favorite tradition?

No, that doesn’t matter now.

“This is where they took her,” I told Charles, motioning toward an alley that cut between the shops. “He pulled through there, and then I lost track of him.”

“I chased them, too!” Paisley interjected proudly. “But my little legs were no match for that big, bad van.”

Sometimes I wondered whether my Chihuahua thought other humans could understand her, too. Either that or she just felt it was polite to talk to everyone, whether or not they had any idea what she was saying.

“The snow has filled in most of the tire tracks, but I still see some slight grooves.” Charles stooped down and touched the ground. “Let’s follow them as far as we can and see where that gets us.”

“The kidnappers weren’t the only ones to have a car,” Octo-Cat grumbled within my arms. “We’re in the middle of downtown. Practically everyone has a car. That’s how we got here. UpChuck, too.”

“Thanks for that observation,” I told my cat, thankful for the relative privacy of the alley.

“What’s he saying?” Charles asked, both eyebrows raised.

He definitely knew that Octo-Cat talked bad about him. After all, I was the one who had revealed my cat’s nickname for the guy wasUpChuck. Still, I hated translating all the sarcastic barbs that came from my naughty kitty’s mouth.

“Uh… nothing,” I said slowly, glancing down the alley and hoping to spot something that would help change the subject—preferably something that would also help lead us to Mags.

“I can tell when he’s being mean, you know,” Charles said with a self-effacing chuckle.

“What?” I stopped to study him for any signs that he was joking at my expense, but his expression remained serious as he met my gaze.“How could you possibly know something like that?”

Charles shrugged and put an arm around my waist.

Paisley now skittered before us, leaving his arms free while Octo-Cat preferred to stay in mine and avoid the damp snow.

“I don’t know. I can just tell. Maybe it’s all the time I spend with Jacques and Jillianne, now that I’ve become a cat owner myself, or maybe I’m just getting to know him and his ways.”

“You don’t think you can…” My voice trailed off. This question was almost too crazy to ask, but if Charles really could understand Octo-Cat’s tone when he was being facetious, maybe he could…

“Do you understand him?” I asked, placing eerie emphasis on each word in that sentence.

“No,” he responded, chuckling again. “I wouldn’t want to, either. It’s one thing to know he says bad things about me and it’s quite another to hear them for myself. Especially when we’re all trying to work together to solve the case. And especially when it’s Mags.”

Charles had come to hang out with us a couple times since Mags’s arrival and the two had hit it off splendidly—the way Charles did with everyone.

Beyond that, I knew he just wanted me to be happy and to make sure nothing bad happened to the people I loved. He was a good guy, Charles Longfellow, III. He never wanted anyone to get hurt. That’s what made him such an expert lawyer. He went the extra mile for his clients every single day.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Paisley woofed, running back toward me so fast she looked like a tiny reindeer blur on the horizon.

I’d been so preoccupied with Charles’s revelation I hadn’t even realized she’d pulled ahead.

“Mommmmmmyyyyyyyyy!” she shouted again, drawing out the word for a couple extra beats. “I smell it! I smell her!”

“What do you smell, sweetie?” I asked, trying not to get my hopes up. Paisley always tried her best to help in whatever way she could, but her natural lack of suspiciousness made her a poor sleuth.

The dog had now reached us and was wagging her tail so hard I thought she might fall over. Even though I knew Nan preferred to keep her Chihuahua companion dressed while she was out on the town, I decided to free Paisley of her over-the-top costume.

She’d be much more of a help to all of us if she wasn’t in constant danger of toppling over. Just like the Grinch’s dog when he, too, had been dressed unceremoniously as a reindeer.

“Thank you, Mommy,” she said with a happy sigh, shaking out her fur in the same way she did right after a bath. Hopefully, she wouldn’t start zipping around like a maniac and rolling around in a frantic blur, which were the next two steps in her post-bath celebration.

“That feels much better,” she said, then shook again but thankfully resisted taking her happy dance any farther. “Do you want to know what I smell?”

“I can tell you what she smells,” Octo-Cat said from within my arms, a slight purr rising from his striped form. “It’s those fried potato things.”

“Hey,” the little dog whined.“I wanted to be the one to say. I wanted to help Mommy, so she would tell me I’m a good dog.”

“You are the very best dog, Paisley, and don’t worry, you can still tell me. Go ahead.”

Octo-Cat had discovered this clue and chosen to keep it to himself. As far as I was concerned, Paisley was the one who deserved all the praise here.

She rolled on the ground once and then popped back up and sang,“It’s the la-la-lokis. Or the latlatkes? I forget, but Mags ate a lot of them. She gave me a little piece, but I didn’t like it. I think I would’ve rather had a lobster roll like Octo-Cat.”

This piqued the cat’s interest. “They do make a mighty fine lobster roll at the Little Dog Diner. Mighty fine. Shall we have another before heading home?”

“Not the time,” I scolded him. “So you smell the food that Mags was eating just before she was taken?”

Paisley nodded and then stumbled slightly to the side, apparently needing to get used to being out of the costume just as she’d needed to get used to being in it. “Yeah, I smell it and it’s going this way.” She spun in a full circle and then ran down the alley and turned.

“Let’s go,” I said, shoving Octo-Cat into Charles’s arms because I knew he could run faster and easier with the extra burden than I could. I also didn’t want to take the chance my cat would disappear if left unsupervised.

Nothing mattered other than getting to my cousin.

Well, at least not to three of the four members of our little search committee.

We all jogged.

The Chihuahua kept moving fast but occasionally lapped us while yelling high-pitched words of encouragement.“Mommy, you can do it! You’re a good runner! Yes, you are! You’re a good girl! Come on, Mommy!”

While I found her cheerleading cute, it wasn’t entirely helpful. At last, when my legs had begun to feel a bit prickly from all the unplanned movement in my tight jeans, Paisley stopped, let out a low growl, and stood with her head angled slightly toward the ground.

Charles and I slowed.

“Well, that was terrible,” Octo-Cat complained. “Let’s not do that again. Shall we?”

I ignored him and followed Paisley’s line of sight with both my eyes and my feet.

“Do you see, Mommy?” the Chihuahua asked, impossibly keeping perfectly still despite the obvious desire to wag her tail hard. “This spot smells a lot like cousin Mags.”

Charles and I both bent down to examine the fallen items that were partially covered in snow.

“That’s because these are Mags’s things,” I revealed with a little gasp. I lifted her fuzzy white beret, discarded cell phone, and the shiny silver menorah she’d only just purchased that morning with shaky hands.

“Why did she leave them here?” Paisley asked with a little whine.

“I don’t think she wanted to.” I stowed all three items in my shoulder bag. “No. I don’t think she wanted to,” I repeated.

“So what do we do now?” Octo-Cat asked.

At the same time, Charles said,“Well, this is concrete evidence, and that’s always a great thing to have.”

“But what do we do now?” I parroted Octo-Cat’s question.

“Why, we call in the cavalry, of course,” came his response.

I loved Charles’s ability to stay calm and level-headed, no matter how hard the going got. Even my cat had become fully invested in pursuing our case, his complaints coming out fewer and farther between. We were now working as one, and that made us unstoppable.

Mags, hang on. We’re coming!

Chapter Fourteen

Charles called Nan while I called my mom.

She picked up on the first ring.“Hey, honey. Did you find Mags?”

“Not yet,” I answered sadly. “But we have a small lead. Can you and Dad meet us at the alley off Third Street? You know the one right next to the pancake place?”

“Yes, we’re coming!” she promised before hanging up.

Charles wrapped both arms around me and mumbled into my hair.“It’s going to be okay. We’ll find her. Your Nan is on the way right now, and she said something about bringing along a friend to help with the search.”

“That will be Mr. Milton,” I said, my voice coming out cold.

“Who’s that? I don’t think I’ve met him before.”

“Neither had I. Not until today. It just seems weird, him hanging around with all that’s going on.”

“Well, maybe he really likes your Nan and wants to help in order to make her happy,” Charles offered with shrug as he let me go.

I shook my head, unwilling to buy that, especially given his reaction earlier.“Yeah, or maybe he’s the murderer we’re all looking for.”

Charles tutted. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“Yes. No… I don’t know. It just seems weird to me.”

“Well, if you’re not sure about him, then I’m not either. Maybe we can try asking him some questions when he arrives.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you talking about Nan’s new friend?” Octavius asked, curling his upper lip in disgust. At least we agreed on this one. “That guy doesn’t have the missing parts to kill somebody.”

“The missing parts?” I asked in confusion.

“Yeah, you know. The ones that boy kittens have before they go to the doctor and—”

“I got it!” I rushed to cut him off before he could add to that description.

“Still, he’s rather suspicious to me,” my tabby added. “Did you see a picture of him on Mr. Gable’s camera when you looked?”

“The camera! That’s right,” I said, slapping my forehead. We’d totally forgotten to look through the images. “I’ll just call Mr. Gable and see if he’s willing to let us borrow that real quick.”

Although the committee head was too busy to talk for long, he revealed that he’d handed the camera over to the police before begging off the call.

“See,” Charles said, keeping his arms tight around me while Octo-Cat sat in the snow silently. “Someone’s looking into it. We have lots of people helping find Mags.”

“To be fair, I don’t think Mr. Milton took Mags, but he could be the murderer. I don’t know. It’s just strange that a guy we’ve never met before has suddenly become so involved in our business.”

Charles didn’t say anything until Mom and Dad arrived a few minutes later.

They hugged Charles hello.

“That was quick,” he said.

“We weren’t too far away. Just over at the ice sculpture garden with the Officer Bouchard and the others. You’ll be happy to know that they have the entire Dewdrop Springs and Misty Harbor police departments both out looking for Mags while the Glendale crew continues with the double homicide.”

“Isn’t that great?” Dad said with his signature oversized grin. “The more, the merrier. Also the more, the faster we’ll find her. And wewillfind her, Angie.”

I forced a smile.“Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps saying. I sure hope you’re all right.”

“Faith. You gotta have it,” Dad said, his smile stretching even wider.

“Listen,” I said, dropping my voice low, making sure only the group of us could hear. “Before Nan comes by, I just wanted to say I don’t trust that new friend she’s taking everywhere with her.”

“Are you saying you suspectMr. Milton?” Mom asked, her voice hitching unnaturally high at the end of that question.

“I’m saying I don’t know. But until we rule him out as a suspect, maybe. I mean, I don’t know who he is. I don’t know how well Nan knows him. Do you guys know anything about him?”

Mom ran her fingers through her hair as she thought.“I have met him once or twice while covering stories out on Caraway Island. He seems like a reasonably decent man.”

Caraway Island.That was the one part of Blueberry Bay I seldom went. Not just because it required a ferry, but also because they didn’t have much to offer other than beautiful scenery. And while ocean views and well-groomed beaches were perfectly nice, we all had those in our small corner of coastal Maine.

“Is there something wrong with Caraway Island?” Charles asked, hooking an eyebrow in my direction. He’d become such a big part of my life since moving here about a year and a half ago that I sometimes forgot he originally hailed from California. He didn’t know all the little quirks of living in Glendale yet.

“For one thing, the Caraway Island Cavaliers were our high school’s biggest rival,” I said, ticking off the first reason on my index finger, then raising a second finger as I continued with my list. “For another, folks from Glendale often visit Misty Harbor, Cooper’s Cove, and Dewdrop Springs, and they all come over here, too. Those on the island mostly keep to themselves, like they’re too good for the rest of us or something.”

Geographically, Caraway Island was part of Blueberry Bay, but they didn’t belong with us in any other way that counted. Perhaps that’s why it felt so strange that Nan’s new boyfriend—or whatever he was to her—hailed from the small, strange island.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Angie. I know we all have our little prejudices about those Cavaliers, but Nan likes Mr. Milton and she’s a good judge of character,” Mom offered, even though I wasn’t sure she meant it.

“Maybe,” I said looking away and still feeling so lost and defeated in all this.

“What else can you tell us? Has there been any progress?” Charles asked.

And if my parents hadn’t been standing right there, I would’ve given him a big fat juicy kiss as a thank you for changing the subject.

“I’ve been staying right on the story of themurders in the ice sculpture garden,” Mom said, making her voice every bit as dramatic as Octo-Cat’s was when he was telling the story or talking about himself. “The latest is that they found the statue the ice weapon was broken from. Even though it had mostly melted by the time the police arrived, they were still able to match it to a missing piece on the sculpture of a swan.”

“I saw that one!” I said. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was beautiful, and it was made by Pearl from the animal shelter. You know Pearl, don’t you? Well, let me just say she was devastated that her art had been used to kill that poor woman. Especially considering that she’d known Zelda Benedict and they were friendly.”

“Do you think Pearl might have done it?” Charles ventured.

“Oh goodness, no!” Mom hissed, looking at Charles with shock and bewilderment. “Sweet Pearl is even older than Nan and not quite as spry. I have a hard time believing she can lift that five-pound Pomeranian of hers, let alone find the strength to first break off that giant icicle and then stab it through her friend’s heart. Goodness me, not Pearl.”

“What’s everyone talking about over here?” Nan said, approaching with her usual swagger, arm linked in that of Mr. Milton.

“Thanks for coming so fast,” Charles said, not wasting a second now that we were all together. “We found Mags’s things spilled out on the ground here, so we know the kidnapper headed in this direction, and right now that’s all we know. But it’s a good place for us to start. Can you help us search?”

“I’ll get the car,” Dad said with a nod. “Meet you back here just as soon as I can.”

“I’ll get mine, too,” Mr. Milton volunteered.

“And I’ll go get mine,” said Charles. “Angie, I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Okay,” I nodded and accepted a quick kiss on the cheek.

As my boyfriend ran off with the other two men, Mom and Nan closed in for a group hug. We’d always been big huggers, but we took it to the extreme when facing situations like this. Danger and drama were becoming far too common for us these days, and I hated that Mags had been sucked into that.

“Do you guys have any theories?” I asked, knowing they probably wouldn’t but still hoping they did.

Nan tilted her head.“I still can’t get over the fact that one of them was killed with an icicle and the other a bullet. That doesn’t seem very well planned to me.”

“It really doesn’t,” Mom agreed. “And there’s nothing to connect Fred and Zelda other than the fact they were both victimized today.”

“There is a lot to think about with the murders, and of course I want to get justice for them. But right now Mags is what’s important,” I reminded them. “Do you have any theories about her?”

“Only that they meant to take you instead,” Nan said with a frown. “And it’s not a theory I like very much.”

“But they took her instead of outright killing her. That’s got to be a good thing. Right?” Mom asked, looking between me and Nan waiting for one of us to offer up a bit of encouragement.

“I hope so,” I said for what felt like the millionth time that morning. Until we had Mags back safe and sound, it was the only thing I had.

Hope.

Chapter Fifteen

Dad returned with his car first, and Charles arrived shortly thereafter.

“Okay,” I told everyone before departing, though Mr. Milton had still not returned. “We’re looking for a white cargo van. The license plate may be too muddy to read or maybe they’ve given the car a wash since then. The truth is we don’t have anything more than that. It’s a definite long shot, but right now it’s all we have to go on.”

“Right-o,” Dad said, touching his index finger and thumb together to make theokay signal.“Let’s go get our girl.”

I opened the passenger side door to Charles’s sedan, and Paisley hopped right in. He picked her up and placed her on the backseat while I sat down carefully and arranged Octo-Cat on my lap.

Although my cat was much better about riding in the car now, sometimes his claws would still dig into my thighs if the driver took turns too hard or went too fast.

As soon as I had my seatbelt pulled securely over my lap, Charles gunned it.“Which way do you want to turn?” he asked me, moving us along quickly toward the main road.

All I had now was intuition and what I hoped might turn out as lucky guesses. For whatever reason, something tugged me toward the left.

We drove slowly through the well-trafficked areas while scanning every parking lot for a sign of our white van.

“This isn’t going to work,” I said after a ten-minute period that seemed to drag on for an eternity. “If they were smart enough to orchestrate a kidnapping, then they’re smart enough to get the heck out of Dodge.”

“Maybe,” Charles agreed, continuing to maneuver the streets of Glendale unperturbed, “but we still have to try.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” I said, continuing to search in silence.

Octo-Cat surprised me by pressing his two front paws to the base of the window and joining our search. His fuzzy little head whipped back and forth with determination.Would he be the one to find her?

If we were still searching after dark, he likely would. After all, he was the only one of us who could see well in the dark.

Oh, how I hoped it wouldn’t come to that!

The longer it took, the higher the risk to Mags. We should have had her by now. She shouldn’t have ever been taken.

“Mommy,” Paisley yipped from the backseat. “I can’t see. I can’t see, and I want to help.”

“Has she spotted something?” Charles asked, answering her bark.

“No,” I translated without pulling my eyes away from the street. “She can’t see anything back there and wants to help.”

Charles patted his lap with one hand.“Oh, well then come here, girl. C’mon.”

Paisley didn’t need to be told twice. She vaulted from the backseat into Charles’s lap where she now stood with her paws against the door in the same position as Octo-Cat.

“There are so many cars!” she remarked. “But only one of them took Mags.”

“Obviously,” my cat droned, but Paisley ignored him.

Charles kept driving straight. If we didn’t turn off, we would eventually wind up in Cooper’s Cove. Might the kidnappers have taken Mags there?

My eyes strained and the left one began to twitch as I felt my pulse boom beneath it. My brain stayed equally busy. So much was going on, it had become difficult to keep my head straight.

Two people had been killed, but the murderer may have only meant to take a single victim. Mags was kidnapped shortly thereafter, but the kidnappers may have meant to take me instead. We didn’t know if the same person—or persons—had committed both crimes or whether it was just a big ol’ coincidence they occurred so close together. I had no idea who would want to take me, who would want to hurt the judges, or where Mags could be.

It all felt like far too much.

And while investigating murders was often harrowing, we weren’t usually racing against a clock. The dead would stay that way, no matter how long it took us to solve the murders, but Mags could still be saved.

“I don’t like it when you do that,” Octo-Cat said, turning to look back at me, a sneer on his little kitty face.

“Do what?” I said innocently.

“When you get all panicky. I can smell it, and it’s not a good smell.”

“You mean my stress hormones?”

“Whatever you want to call them. They’re pretty disgusting, and anyway, you always do so much better when you’re able to look at a situation logically. The moment you start freaking out is the moment you’re working with a disadvantage.”

Well…

I was dumbfounded by the insight of his observation and needed a moment to decide how to respond.

Octo-Cat, however, kept going.“We’ve solved how many cases together now? This has got to be number ten or something near that, and each of those times no matter what happened, you figured it out. Well, usually it was me who played the most instrumental role, but you were there, and you helped, just like good assistants do. You’d be of a lot more assistance to me now if you just took a moment to get a grip already. You can treat it like an episode ofLaw& Order. First, we need to solve the crime, and then we can worry about getting justice for the victims.”

He hummed a melodic beat that I believed was meant to be theLaw& Order sound—dun dun—and although I didn’t think everything in our lives could be likened to an episode of his favorite show, this time my cat was absolutely right.

I’d let myself become too fixated on what could happen next. I needed to shift my focus to what we already knew, what had already happened, and then go forward from there.

Taking his advice, I took several deep, steadying breaths as I reviewed the facts of both cases in my mind.

“What are you thinking about?” Charles asked from beside me, chancing a quick glance in my direction while we continued on the road to Cooper’s Cove.

“I’m going over everything we know and trying to look at things logically rather than letting my worry for Mags cloud everything.”

“So you’re relaxing a little?” he asked with a slight grin.

“I’m still crazy worried,” I admitted with a sigh, “but I need to put that aside for everyone’s benefit. Octo-Cat reminded me of that.”

Charles reached over and patted Octo-Cat’s head while moving his other hand to the top of the steering wheel. “He’s a good cat when he wants to be.”

“Yes he is,” I agreed, smiling over at the tabby. “Yes he is…”

“So tell me what you’re thinking,” Charles continued. “Any fresh insights?”

I stayed silent for a minute as I gathered all my thoughts.“I just don’t see a way that the murders and kidnapping can be linked other than the location, which I believe is a coincidence.”

“Makes sense,” he said. “Go on.”

“I don’t even think that both ofthe murders were planned, so it would be a stretch to addthe kidnapping on top of that.”

“And you’ve made a lot of enemies over the last year and a half,” Octo-Cat reminded me with a quick flick of his tail.

I told Charles what the cat had said, and my boyfriend chuckled.“That’s what happens when you’re the good guy. You always ruffle some of the bad guy’s feathers”

Octo-Cat perked up at this analogy, but I focused on asking the next logical question.“But whose feathers would be ruffled enough to try to abduct me?”

“Hmm.Let’s review. First, there were the folks involved with Ethel Fulton’s demise and inheritance dispute.”

Octo-Cat winced. Even though I knew he was happy living with me now, he still missed his original owner every day.

Charles continued to discuss the murderers and other criminals we’d played a role in apprehending, coming up with a list of more than a dozen potential suspects.

“Looks like the cat’s right,” he quipped. “A lot of people have cause to be very angry with you. But who would it benefit to take you now? They’ve already been caught. No changing that now.”

“Most recently, Octo-Cat and I solved the murder on the train and the one in the pet store.”

“The folks from the train were apprehended, correct?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

“Yes, they’re in jail and some of the others we’ve caught are, too.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully.“In jail doesn’t meannot capable.They could have lackies working for them for all we know.”

“So, what you’re saying iswe can’t rule anybody out?”

He shook his head sadly.“Nope. Not a single person.”

My phone buzzed from the place where I’d dropped it in Charles’s cup holder after getting in the car.

“It’s Nan,” I cried, quickly answering the call and putting it on speaker.

“Angie, dear!” she shouted into the phone. “It’s Mags! They’ve found her! She’s safe!”

Tears welled in my eyes.“Oh thank goodness… Thank goodness.” We hadn’t been too late after all.

“We’re on our way,” I promised Nan.

“So are we. We’re all going back to the Glendale police station. See you there.”

Chapter Sixteen

We reached the Glendale police station in record time.

Charles swore he didn’t go a mile over the speed limit—being the law-abiding lawyer he was—but I’m pretty sure that when I had the chance to sneak a peek at the speedometer, we were going at least ten over.

Then again, all the police were occupied elsewhere as we made our journey toward Mags.

When we got there, Nan and Mr. Milton had already arrived on the scene, and from what I could tell, Mags had just been delivered to the station as well.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re all right,” I cried, rushing to hug her as tight as I could. A giant wracking sob tore through me once I had her safe in my arms.

We’d been so close to losing each other after only just having been reunited… And I’d been dangerously close to losing her for good.

My cousin stared at me through glassy, unblinking eyes, her face devoid of any rosiness as she regarded me.

“Now, now. Just give her a moment,” the delivering officer commanded. “She’s had quite the shock, this one.”

I gulped and took a step back, willing my cousin to speak to me—but she remained perfectly quiet as the rest of us settled in at the station.

Mom and Dad arrived about five minutes after the rest of us and hugged Mags just as tightly as I had.

“Whoa,” the officer said with a kind chuckle. “I hadn’t realized we’d be hosting a family reunion right here at the station.”

Mom shot him a cold look, but nobody said anything more. Not until Mags delicately cleared her throat and searched the small room until she found me.

“Angie,” she said, her voice emotionless, disconnected.“Angie,” she repeated with added emphasis.“They didn’t want me. They wanted you.”

“I know,” I answered with a nod.

Charles pressed in close, holding Octo-Cat in his arms.

Paisley had already been returned to Nan with a flurry of licks and cuddles.

Mags reached forward now to stroke Octo-Cat’s soft, striped fur. “They kept calling me Russo,” she said, “and I don’t think they figured out that I’m not you.”

“Who is they? And why did they take you?” As horrible as I felt that this had happened at all, it was even worse to know for sure that it had been my fault.

“I don’t know,” Mags answered with a frown. “They blindfolded me in the van and tied my hands behind my back. I never got a good look at either of them.”

“How many were there? Were they male? Female?” I asked, praying that this would soon make sense so that Mags’s kidnappers would have to pay for what they’d done.

“I’ll be the one to ask questions here,” the cop growled in warning. He was one I hadn’t met before, probably from one of the officers from out of town. “If you’ll just give us a moment—”

Mags raised her hand and interrupted him.“No, they’re my family. I want them here. Anything you want to ask me, they can hear, too.”

“Okay,” the officer said, nodding once although he obviously didn’t agree. “Let’s start with a description of your kidnappers. How many were there? Male? Female? Any defining characteristics to their voices, anything you remember hearing or smelling?”

Those were questions I was going to ask too. Some of them I already had. It seemed important to the officer that he remain in charge, so I remained quiet.

Mags shook her head slowly.“From what I could tell, there were two. A man and woman. Remember, I couldn’t see anything. Only hear. And when the man pulled me into the car, I still had my things with me. That morning I bought a solid metal menorah from the nice ladies at the Hanukkah tent and I used it to thwack him over the head as hard as I could. It wasn’t enough to knock him out, though. That’s when he took everything away and threw it out the window.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the things we had found in the snow.“We’ve got everything right here for you,” I said, returning them to her. “And good job getting that hit in.”

A small smile flitted across Mags’s face, but it was gone just as quickly as it had arrived.

“They kept calling me Russo, and I didn’t correct them because I didn’t want to put you in danger, and I didn’t know what they would do if they found out they had the wrong person. I was so scared, Angie.”

“I know,” I said, my voice cracking.

“They were so angry. They kept telling me to keep my nose out of places where it didn’t belong. They said bad things would happen to me, much worse than this if I crossed them again.”

“But who?” I asked, unable to contain a groan.

Enormous tears spilled from Mags’s eyes. “I don’t know. I wish I did, so I could warn you. All I know is they were mad, and they said they’d definitely be back if you didn’t fall in line. What did they mean, Angie? What have you gotten into? Is it drugs?”

“Never!” I assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “This has to be related to my work as a private investigator. I’ve outed some pretty unsavory characters in my day.”

The cop scratched his chin.“A P.I., huh?”

I nodded, and we said no more about that.“So did they just deliver the message and then let you go?” he asked after returning his attention to Mags.

“I think they planned to keep me longer, but something spooked them. Maybe the sound of sirens. I’m not sure, because it’s all kind of a blur. They panicked and left. Once I was sure they weren’t coming back, I got to work on the ties binding my hands. And once those were free, I took off theblindfold and made my way to the road.”

“And that’s where we found you,” the officer concluded.

“Yes.” Mags turned to me. “It’s hard to believe that wasn’t even half an hour ago.”

“It’s hard to believe a lot about today,” Nan added.

Mr. Milton, who’d remained quiet until now, cleared his throat. “They took you to Dewdrop Springs. Probably means they’re from there. A lot of the bad things that happen around the bay come from folks in that town.”

All eyes zoomed to Mr. Milton. Nobody wanted to contradict him, but nobody jumped to agree with him either.

“It could have been anyone,” I said at last. “But I doubt the kidnappers were stupid enough to return home while they had her.”

“Are you saying we should rule out Dewdrop Springs?” Mr. Milton questioned, his voice flaring in irritation.

“No, but we shouldn’t rule out all the other possibilities, either.”

“Is there anything more you can tell us, Mags?” Mom asked, wrapping an arm around her niece’s shoulder.

“That’s all I know,” Mags answered somberly.

I remained quiet. Mags had already been through so much. There was no point asking her to recall more when she’d already told us.

Did this mean the kidnappers wouldn’t be found?

Probably at least not for now.

And who or what had scared them off? Would they really be back?

Would every moment going forward put me in peril, seeing as they could strike at any time?

They’d said they wanted me to stop, but I didn’t know what I should stop. And honestly, I refused to be scared off my duties as a P.I. by some disgruntled bad guys.

More than afraid, I was angry—angry this had happened to Mags in my place, angry it had happened at all, and angry that Mr. Milton was still here.

Finally, I decided to say something about that niggling little problem.“Do you think we should limit any further discussions to family only?”

I looked to my parents for support, but it was Nan who answered.“Are you trying to suggest Mr. Milton isn’t welcome?”

“I just think it would be better,” I said, “if it were only us.”

When Nan didn’t argue in his defense, Mr. Milton became extremely flustered.“I’m only trying to help. Can’t you see that?” he demanded of me.

Mags spoke up in the eerie voice she’d affected since returning to us. “Angie’s right. I want him to go.”

Mr. Milton looked to Nan one last time, then stormed out of the station.

Chapter Seventeen

“C’mon,” the police officer told Mags. “We need to get your statement on record before letting you go.”

“Should I come with you?” Charles offered.

Mags shook her head.“I didn’t do anything wrong, so I don’t need a lawyer present, but thank you.”

We watched her go, the rest of us remaining in the waiting room uncomfortably close to a grimy looking coffeemaker. I hung back as far as I could from the untrustworthy appliance.

If it was a coffeemaker that had first given me my ability to talk to animals, then another coffeemaker could just as easily take that power away, too. Definitely not something I was willing to risk.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked, leaning one shoulder onto the wall beside me and sweeping his concerned eyes over me.

“I feel like a giant weight has been lifted from my chest,” I said. “I know that’s super clich?, but it’s also like a part of me didn’t even realize that I couldn’t breathe until Mags was brought back safe, sound, and relatively unharmed.”

“I know what you mean,” Mom agreed and laced her fingers through my father’s.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to find the kidnappers based on the information we have, dear,” Nan told me, concern etched across her aged features.

“It’s not a big deal. Now that I know they’re coming for me, I’ll be ready,” I promised.

“Maybe they only wanted to give you that warning and plan to leave it at that,” my dad ventured. “Are you going to listen?”

“Of course not,” Nan answered for me. “Angie hasn’t done a single thing wrong.”

I simpered at my parents.“She’s right, you know. Now that we have Mags back, we need to focus on figuring out who killed the judges.”

“What are you thinking?” Mom asked, curiosity flashing in her eyes.

“I’m thinking I’d like to talk to Mr. Gable again. He’s the one who knew the most about the Holiday Spectacular. Both the festival itself and the committee who planned it.”

“Don’t forget he’s the one who knows the most about the guests, too,” Charles reminded me. “He took pictures of everyone who came through that main entrance.”

“Yes, the camera!” I cried. “It’s here at the police station. I never got a chance to finish looking through it.”

“That officer didn’t seem too keen on having us involved in his investigation,” Dad grumbled. “Do you really think he’d share a key piece of evidence like that?”

Charles shook his head in response.“He might not want to, but I bet that officer Bouchard could convince him otherwise.”

“Already on it.” Mom held up her phone as the call connected. A moment later, a wide smile stretched across her face.

“Yes, it’s me, Laura Lee. We found Mags, which you probably already heard, so now we’re available to help you find the killer from the ice sculpture garden.”

I couldn’t hear the officer’s side of the conversation, but whatever he said didn’t slow Mom down one bit.

“Of course, I know you’re all working on it very hard,” she said, bobbing her head, “but you know how talented my Angie is, and I think she might have already figured it all out besides.”

I made a slicing motion across my neck, begging her not to exaggerate our position, but it was too late.

Mom smiled even wider.“Yes, yes, we just need to take another look at those photos from Mr. Gable’s camera to confirm. Would you mind letting us take a look?”

She paused while Officer Bouchard said something on the other end of the line.

“Luckily, we just so happen to be at the Glendale police station already, so if you would give the word to your colleague here, I’m sure he’d be happy to share.”

I watched Mom as she marched in the direction the officer and Mags had departed and knocked on the door to the interrogation room.

Definitely not standard procedure, but Mom had never worried much about that. She would go anywhere, do anything to pursue a hot story, and this was definitely the hottest of the holiday season.

“Oh, officer!” she called through the door. “I know you’re in there. I have Officer Bouchard on the line, and he has a message for you.”

I stood in shocked silence as the door flung open. The officer cursed softly, then told Mags he’d be back in a moment. Sure enough, less than three minutes later we had Mr. Gable’s camera in hand and free rein to look through the photographs.

“What are you hoping to find?” Nan asked me as I flicked faster and faster, taking in all the smiling faces from that morning one by one.

“I’m not exactly sure, but I’d like to see if any of the shots send up warning flares.”

Although I didn’t say so, I was also trying to determine who the two suspicious characters the rabbit E.B. had noted might be.

I reached the end of the photo roll and then began to flip back through in the other direction. Faster, faster, still unsure of what I was hoping to find, but knowing I was so close.

“Do you think—” my father started, but Charles held up a hand to silence him. He recognized something in my face before I’d even managed to connect the dots in my brain.

I shuffled through the pictures again, finally realizing that one very specific person was missing.“Nan, when did you and Mr. Milton join up today?”

“Why, he found me a few minutes after we arrived while you and Mags were still getting that fancy cocoa. You remember. Don’t you?”

I nodded.“So he arrived before us, then?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Nan assured me.

I found our photo in the lineup. We were one of the first. Only about ten folks had arrived before us, and none of them were Mr. Milton. Could he be one of the people E.B. had identified as acting suspiciously?

I wished I could ask the bunny now, but she’d already told me all humans look the same and I knew she wouldn’t be able to recognize a specific person if shown a picture—not that I even had one of those since our old pal Mr. Milton had evaded the camera.

“He’s not here,” I told Nan, handing over the camera.

“Oh dear, don’t be ridiculous.” She flipped through quickly, her voice trailing off. “He probably took another entrance. There were several to choose from.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Mom mumbled.

“If you hadn’t sent him away, he’d be here to answer these accusations for himself,” Nan said, but I could tell she now worried about his possible involvement as well.

“He is a member of the committee, too, you know. He could have helped with information, but you never gave him a chance.” This behavior from Nan was shocking. She’d always supported me, no matter what. So to see her defending Mr. Milton now sent a chill rushing right through me.

“Nan, what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Milton? I never met him before today, and he just seems a little possessive of you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Nan responded. “He’s an old friend from years ago, and we simply reconnected now.”

“Do you think he’s capable of murder or kidnapping?” I asked.

“How could he have been the one to kidnap Mags when he was with us the whole time?” Nan asked with a slight quaver in her voice.

“Okay. Maybe not the kidnapping, but what about the murders? He arrived before us and the victims were already dead by then.”

“He would never,” she insisted and bit her lip, a telltale sign she didn’t quite believe the words that had come out of her mouth.

“Don’t worry, Nan. I’m not saying he did it. But you are right about one thing. We need to talk to somebody on that committee.”

“Should I ring Mr. Gable?” Mom offered.

“No,” I said, pushing her arm down even as she had already begun to dial.

“Just like Mr. Milton attached himself to us all day, it’s possible the guilty party could be lingering very close to Mr. Gable now, and I don’t want to alert him that we’re coming. Not until we have the chance to talk to Mr. Gable directly.”

“Have you figured it out?” Charles asked, rubbing my shoulders as if I were a boxer about to go in for round two of the fight.

“Not yet, but I feel close. Mom, Dad, would you please stay here and wait for Mags? I need to go now while everything is still clicking in my brain.”

“Of course, honey,” Mom replied.

“But be careful and call us if you need anything. Got it?” Dad added.

Charles, Nan, and I rushed out of the station with the pets in tow just as quickly as we entered.“We’ll take my car,” Charles said, unlocking it remotely so that Nan and Paisley could slip into the backseat and Octo-Cat and I into the passenger side.

I took a quick moment to explain my theory to the others.

“There’s definite merit to that,” Charles agreed, turning the key in the ignition. “It makes sense. I just hope we’re not playing our hand too soon.”

“Everything will be just fine.” Nan sounded more like her usual self now that Mr. Milton wasn’t around.

“Are we going to catch the bad guys now?” Paisley asked with an excited whimper.

“Yes,” Octo-Cat answered for me. “It’s time to make the canary sing.”

He licked his lips at the mention of the canary even though we weren’t going to confront a snitch—we would go directly to the guilty party.

Chapter Eighteen

We found Mr. Gable at the sleigh same as he’d been before.

“Welcome back,” he called as Nan, Charles, the animals, and I approached on foot, having parked just around the corner.

“Have you been busy?” Charles asked with a friendly smile.

“Things are slowing down now. Far fewer visitors coming into town, but we still have a lot of ticked-off vendors who want to have a word with the person in charge before they head on home.”

Charles shifted seamlessly into the role of ace attorney.“Was the festival insured?”

“Of course we were. And thankfully we should have enough to cover all the fee reimbursements, but I still don’t know what the future holds for us. Whether the festival is done for good or it will continue on in a different place.” The weight of this uncertainty hung heavily over his shoulders. Mr. Gable appeared to fold into himself as he considered the options, both of which were far less than ideal.

“But the Holiday Spectacular has always been in Glendale.” Nan also didn’t want to accept that things would likely be changing, and I completely understood where she was coming from.

Traditions were special because you could rely on them being the same each year, and I hated to think that my favorite part of Christmas could be going away for good.

Mr. Gable frowned as he noted the dejected look on Nan’s face. “It has been, but we were chosen to represent the entire Blueberry Bay region when things were first starting up. It could just as easily be moved to Dewdrop Springs or Misty Harbor.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be,” Nan clucked, eliciting a smile from Mr. Gable for the first time since tragedy had struck earlier that day.

“Where’s E.B.?” I asked. Might I find some time to talk with the rabbit in private about my suspicions?

“Burrowed deep in the hay to stay warm, that sweet girl.”

Upon hearing this, Paisley raced over to the nativity and began to dig furiously.

I set Octo-Cat down on the seat of the sleigh, and he remained quiet, wanting to hear what would happen next just as much as I did. I still didn’t know whether it would be Mr. Gable or E.B. to give me the final intel I needed, but either way, I knew we’d find the culprit soon.

“Can we gather the committee?” I asked him now.

“I suppose we could. Why? Have you figured out something that could help us?”

“I think I may have a lead,” I responded with a poorly concealed smile. “But I’d really rather share with the entire committee if possible.”

Mr. Gable regarded me wearily.“Most of them are still around, but at least one is otherwise occupied.”

“Oh?” Charles asked, stepping closer as his interest grew.

Nan also watched Mr. Gable with wide eyes and shivering shoulders. The day was becoming colder as more and more snow fell, and we were all more than ready to go home.

We were so close now, though. I could practically taste it.

“Yes.” Mr. Gable rubbed his hands together and blew out an icy puff of air. “Officer Bouchard is wrapped up in the homicide investigation, so I don’t think he’ll be able to put that aside for an impromptu meeting.”

“He was on the committee?” I asked. Why was I only just now learning this? “That’s strange, because he didn’t recognize Zelda when we first discovered the bodies. And wasn’t it Fred who was the last-minute addition rather than Zelda?”

Mr. Gable nodded as he turned this over in his memory.“I suppose he wouldn’t. You see, Officer Bouchard only came to the meetings that pertained directly to safety and security. It’s possible he either didn’t pay attention to the finer details of areas that didn’t concern him or that he knew about Zelda but was unable to connect the face with the name.”

I nodded along, still finding it strange—especially considering Officer Bouchard served as chief detective whenever Glendale needed someone to slip into the role.

“Was it the same for any of the other committee members as well?” I asked, knowing we were mere moments from a big revelation.

“Yes, we had a couple who only contributed to certain areas just like the good officer Bouchard. Most of us were involved in all the planning meetings, though.”

Nan went to join Octo-Cat on the sleigh. I worried that the cold had seeped into her bones. Even though she was in better shape than me, she was also quite old, and we’d been outside for much of the day in this frigid weather.

Charles whipped out his phone and opened the notes app.“Would you be able to give us a list of your members to help me figure out which were only partially involved, like Officer Bouchard?”

I watched as Nan settled in with Octo-Cat on her lap, glad they would keep each other warm now.

When I turned back to the men, I asked,“Mr. Gable, could you please also tell us which of the full-time members missed that last meeting, the one where Fred was added as a second judge?”

“Oh, sure that’s easy. Just a second. I’ll help you there, son.” Mr. Gable and Charles worked out the list while I checked on the animals.

Paisley had cuddled her small, mostly black body against E.B. in the hay and was grooming her cheeks. The bunny trembled—probably afraid for her life—but I knew Paisley would never harm. She just didn’t have it in her.

Octo-Cat watched the snow fall from his place on Nan’s lap, following individual flakes as they floated down from the sky.

“It really is a pretty day,” he said. “All the snow makes the sun shine brighter. It would be nice to take a nap if it weren’t so wet—or there weren’t so many murders happening around town, too.”

I simpered at him and stroked his back. He always had a way of bringing things into perspective, that cat of mine.

“Angie, we’ve got it,” Charles called me back to his side.

“Here’s the full list. As you see, there are fifteen committee members in all that served this year. The ones with the stars only involve themselves in specific areas of the planning.” He pointed to the namesOfficer Bouchard and Janice Delacroix.

“The ones with the question mark were involved in full-scale planning but missed the final meeting.” He then pointed to Bill RandoneandHarvey Milton on his digital list.

“Milton!” I almost choked on the name. “Is that Nan’s friend, Mr. Milton?”

“What?” Nan cried, hopping down from the sleigh and coming to join us, Octo-Cat still curled comfortably in her arms. “What bout Harvey?”

“He was on the committee, but he missed our last meeting so he didn’t know about the last-minute judging changeup,” Mr. Gable summarized. “And you know, Dorothy, I don’t think I ever would have pictured you two as a couple. That Cupid works in mysterious ways.”

“Can you tell us more about Janice and Bill? I don’t know those two,” I asked, shaking off the reference to my grandmother’s love life, especially seeing as it concerned Harvey Milton.

Charles stared at his phone while Mr. Gable met my gaze.“Janice is our go-to marketing gal. She manages social media, the website, our newsletter. Doesn’t really come to the meetings, but we send her everything by email. I don’t know how carefully she reads over the materials we send her way, but she has access to the full information if she wants it.”

“And Bill?” Charles mumbled, not bothering to glance up from his phone.

“Bill usually came with Harvey. They both had a long trek from Caraway Island, having to catch the ferry there and back.”

Something tightened in my chest.“Caraway Island?” I asked as if I’d never heard of the place before.

Mr. Gable nodded.“Yes, and they both missed the last meeting due to something unplanned. I think Bill had to work late and Harvey didn’t want to take the trip over on his own. Something like that.”

“Nan, did you know Mr. Milton was on the committee?”

“Of course I knew,” she responded, but her face crumpled a bit as I asked Mr. Gable my next question.

Now my heart began to gallop in my chest. We were so, so close.“Did you take a picture of Bill today?” I asked.

He thought about this.“Actually, no. I don’t think I saw him at all until after we were shutting things down.”

If I’d have been a cartoon, a giant lightbulb would have flashed over my head at this reveal.Bill Randone,that was the name of our guilty party. We had it. We had it at last. Now we just had to get him.

Somehow. Someway.

“Is he still here?” I asked, my words slurring together as I worked to get them out of my mouth as quickly as possible. “Is he helping to shut things down and send people over toward the park?”

“Last I knew, he was stationed over on Third Street.”

“Let’s go,” I said, breaking into an immediate run.

Nan pulled right up at my side and matched my pace. At some point, she must have given Octo-Cat to Charles, because he ran a few paces behind carrying both the cat and the dog as he puffed along.

Mr. Gable hadn’t joined us in the pursuit, probably because he didn’t want to leave E.B. on her own.

“I just can’t believe all of that,” Nan said. “I trust Mr. Gable, but I also know Harvey didn’t do this because he was with me the whole time. Do you think he knew about Bill?”

“There’s a chance,” I said between huffs. Running was still not a strong point for me, and somehow I’d managed to do it twice in one day now.

We ran another block before rounding the corner onto Third Street. And while I’d never seen Bill Randone a day in my life, I spotted him immediately because there he stood with Harvey Milton as the two carried on an animated discussion.

Suddenly they both glanced up and spotted us racing toward them. Randone immediately took off in the other direction at a sprint.

I grabbed my phone, still running, and dialed Officer Bouchard to let him know what we’d discovered and that his primary suspect was now on the run.

Nan pulled ahead, closing the rest of the distance to Mr. Milton faster than I could ever hope to move.

Then slapped him right across the face.

Chapter Nineteen

I don’t think I’d ever seen my Nan quite as angry as she was that day.

“You knew,” she spat, her normally warm and friendly eyes saturated with a shocking coldness. “This whole time you knew and were probably even feeding information back to your friend.”

Mr. Milton cleared his throat. Something I now realized he did whenever he felt nervous.“I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected.”

“Oh, yoususpected,” Nan repeated sarcastically. “So what were you? Warning him just now?”

“No!” Mr. Milton finally raised his voice to join in the fight. “I was confronting him with my suspicions.”

“And giving him a chance to run.” I jumped right into the fray as well. “Why wouldn’t you have gone straight to the police?”

Picking up on our emotions, Paisley began to bark and growl and kick out her back legs like a chicken scratching at pebbles.“Bad man! Bad, bad man! No treats for you!”

Charles and Octo-Cat watched silently as the three women—two human and one dog—ganged up on a very guilty looking Harvey Milton.

“I don’t agree with what he did, but I do agree with why he did it.” This statement drew gasps from all of us, even Charles and Octo-Cat, who had chosen to mostly stay out of the confrontation.

“What?” Nan and I exploded in unison.

Mr. Milton shook his head. This time he didn’t clear his throat, clearly feeling conviction in the words he was about to speak.“Caraway Island needs the Holiday Spectacular far more than Glendale ever did. The whole thing is a tourism goldmine, and our city is struggling. Due to the isolation, few ever manage to venture over. Each year it gets worse. Businesses are closing, and our community is becoming more and more cutoff from the rest of the area. We need something… A magic bullet, if you will.”

He winced.“Okay, maybe not the best choice of words.”

I laughed bitterly.“The fact that you would say such a thing—even accidentally—just goes to show what a horrible person you actually are. It’s like you think it’s okay that your friend killed two people to try to bring more money into your city.”

“Of course it’s not okay,” Mr. Milton responded, his gaze narrowing at me, “but we tried everything else and nothing worked.”

“Everything short of murder,” Nan mumbled and crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

Mr. Milton continued, keeping his eyes fixed on me.“When the planning started up for this year, Bill and I pushed for moving the festival to Caraway Island, but Gable and the others were quick to shoot us down. Bill said that Glendale wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of keeping the festival once a well-respected outsider got murdered on their watch. Naturally, Caraway would come to the rescue and agree to host going forward.”

“And Bill told you all of this after the fact, I’m assuming.” I tapped my foot in irritation. “Was this before or after your friend killed two innocent people? Oh, and the cops are already after him by the way. I spoke to my good friend Officer Bouchard while my grandmother was busy beatingyou up.”

I thought I heard Charles chuckle under his breath, but it was hard to tell over the sound of Paisley’s harried barking.

“Obviously, it wasafter. I already told you I had nothing to do with the murders.”

“What about Fred Hapley?” I asked. “You mentioned shooting a well-respected outsider. But Fred wasn’t either of those things. I’m sure most people tried to avoid his insurance sales pitch whenever they saw him coming.”

Mr. Milton cleared his throat several times but remained every bit as angry as he had before resorting to this maneuver.“What about Fred Hapley? He got in the way. That’s all. Bill missed the last meeting, so he didn’t know the guy would be there. Luckily, he had a gun on him in case the icicle failed to do its job with the woman. The icicle worked, but he still found a use for the gun, anyway.”

“Luckily?” Nan and I cried once again in perfect sync.

Nan reared back and slapped him across the other cheek.“I can’t believe I ever considered you a friend,” she said with disgust.

“If that’s all, I’ll just be going on my way,” Mr. Milton said with one last look toward Nan as a giant frown took over his face. “It’s really too bad. I liked you, Dorothy. I thought we had started something special. I can see now your affections are fickle.”

“I don’t date criminals,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Believe what you want. I don’t have to answer you anyway.”

“No, but you do have to answer to him,” Charles countered, drawing all our attention to the officer approaching from behind. It was the same cop we had run across earlier, the one who had questioned Mags and insisted on remaining in full control at the station.

Several paces back, Dad followed.

“Where’s Mags?” I asked when he stopped at my side.

“Your mother took her home and sent me to find out what was going on here.”

We watched side-by-side as the out-of-town officer slapped a pair of cuffs on Harvey Milton. Whether or not he planned any of it, he’d still been an accomplice by keeping his neighbor’s secret.

As happy as I was to see Milton carted away, something still wasn’t right. “What about the other guy?”

“Yes, what about Bill Randone?” Nan demanded.

“Bouchard’s got him,” came the answer. “That’s right, you’ll see your buddy soon enough at the station.”

Milton drew on his right to remain silent, leaving the rest of us gaping until the officer escorted him from our view.

“Well, that’s one way to celebrate Christmas Eve,” Nan remarked with a shrug as we all burst into relieved laughter.

“I think I prefer the more traditional methods of celebration.” Charles wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead protectively.

Octo-Cat got squished in between us but didn’t utter a single meow in protest.“I knew it the whole time,” he said instead.

“You did, did you?” I asked with another chuckle.

“The cat always knows,” he explained, winking up at me.

Seeing as it was Christmas, I decided to let that one go.“You did good,” I told him, backing out of Charles’s embrace so he could breathe easily once more.

“You, too, Paisley. Good dog.” I bent down and picked her up, and after having accepted a few pets and kisses from me, she vaulted into Nan’s arms, completely unconcerned for her own safety.

“Whoa there,” Nan cried, praising the wriggling little ball of fur.

“I’m sorry about your new boyfriend,” my dad offered with a frown.

“Me, too,” she said. “Luckily we weren’t quite to that point yet, though.”

“Think you’ll ever forgive him?” Charles asked.

“Heck no,” my grandmother shouted, then hacked a giant loogie onto the snow, drawing shocked laughter from all of us.

“Even though he swears he wasn’t involved in the murders, he still warned his friend rather than turning him in. As far as I’m concerned, that’s just as bad. I’d never be able to trust him again. Not after that stunt.”

“You know what? Forget about Mr. Milton,” I said. “He’s not important.”

“Actually, I do owe him one thing.” Nan glanced from the street toward the sky, then met my eyes head-on. “I hadn’t quite realized how lonely I let myself become since your grandfather passed. Of course, I have you and Paisley and…”

“And enough friends to fill a football stadium,” Dad pointed out with a smile.

“That, too,” she admitted her smile matching his, “but it’s not quite the same as having a partner.”

Charles pulled me into his side as we beamed at Nan and the touching news she’d just shared with us.

“So you think you’re ready to date again?” I asked, my heart swelling with excitement for her.

“I think I’m getting there,” she said with a sly grin. “One step at a time.”

Chapter Twenty

We spent Christmas holed up at home. Mom, Dad, and Charles all joined us at different points in the day, but mostly it was just me, Nan, and Mags sitting around our enormous Christmas tree and sharing our favorite memories from the years we’d missed out on celebrating together.

Nan, of course, dressed Octo-Cat and Paisley in their homemade holiday sweaters but held her tongue when Mags decided to wear a floor-length khaki skirt with a mint green cardigan set.

I opted to remain in pajamas, because nothing beats the comfort of flannel after a long, hard day—and the one we’d had yesterday was certainly a doozy.

That was Christmas.

On the day after Christmas, Mags finally taught us how to make candles the traditional way. Although I always loved learning something new, I didn’t foresee many more candle-making sessions in my future. The whole process of dipping seemed to take forever, and I had nowhere near the skill Mags did when it came to swirling colors and carving patterns.

She made it fun, though, dropping random facts in here and there and entertaining us with a carefully curated collection of jokes.

I’d wondered if she was feeding us some of the same lines she gave her students back home. I kind of hoped she had.

We continued to eat up every moment together, but as the days passed, I grew sad knowing our time was almost up. I wished my cousin didn’t live so far away because she’d very quickly become the sister I never had—and, despite everything, she said she felt the same way about me, too.

“Next time we’ll have to get Nan and Aunt Lydia together with us,” she said with a laugh I didn’t understand, having never met Lydia for myself.

“Once we put those two together, all we’ll have to do is sit back and watch while laughing our butts off,” she added with a guffaw.

A couple more days passed, bringing us to New Year’s Eve. Mags would be on an early flight out of town the next day. The rates, she explained, were far too good to pass up in favor of sleeping in.

I, however, balked when I saw just how early her flight was scheduled.“Are you going to be able to stay up?” I asked, having waited for the ball to drop every year since my mom had first let me stay up at the age of six.

“Of course I’m going to stay up!” she said with a scandalized gasp. “I might not even go to bed at all.”

I laughed, Octo-Cat groaned, and Paisley danced, not quite knowing why. All was as it should be in my little corner of the world.

The doorbell chimed, this time to the tune ofFeliz Navidad—in honor of Paisley’s Mexican heritage, Nan had informed me, even though that little dog had never stepped foot out of Maine a single day in her life.

Nan rushed to the entryway, fluffing her hair as she went. Her normal hot pink attire had been retired for the evening in favor of a sparkly silver dress. She looked like an award show trophy, and I looked rather out of place in my polka dotted pants and Grumpy Cat T-shirt. The latter had been a gift from Mags who said she’d never known anyone who loves their cat quite the way I do.

“Come in, come in.” Nan’s voice carried throughout the lower floor. “So glad you could make it.”

I heard her exchange European-style kisses on either side of her visitor’s cheeks and a moment later they appeared. “Happy New Year!” Mr. Gable announced cheerfully, carrying E.B. in one arm and a large bag of take-out in the other.

“Happy New Year!” Mags and I wished him back.

“Something smells marvelous,” my cat said, perking up from his nap. He sniffed the air and then a grin spread between his whiskered cheeks. “Could it be…?”

Mr. Gable handed E.B. to me and the food to Nan, then ran out to his car for a second load.

“Hello again, little bunny,” I said, conscious of Mags’s eyes on me.

“Hello,” E.B. answered all the while wiggling, wiggling, wiggling that nose. Mr. Gable returned with a triangular-shaped litter box filled with hay and fresh produce. He took his rabbit back from me and set her on the ground near the area he had fashioned for her.

Paisley trotted over, head held high.“Hello again, dear E.B. Do you still want to talk about your feelings?”

Oh, that sweet Chihuahua, always willing to do whatever it took to make others happy.

“What feelings?” E.B. asked, taking a tentative hop toward a piece of lettuce while keeping one eye glued to her canine acquaintance.

“When we met you at the festival you said you were always afraid that others would hurt you. Let’s explore those feelings, shall we?” Paisley tilted her head to the side, both ears perked high as she waited for E.B. to share.

The lop-eared bunny nibbled on her veggies for a spell, then said,“No one’s ever asked me about how I feel before. Are you sure you want to know?”

Paisley plopped her wagging butt onto the ground.“Oh yes. I want to know everything,” she said, her eyes sparkling with kindness. “Let’s start with your childhood. Were you a happy baby bunny or a sad baby bunny?”

I stifled a laugh and left those two on their own.

Octo-Cat had followed Nan into the kitchen and Mags, Mr. Gable, and I now moved to join them there.

“I didn’t know what to bring for our little New Year’s shindig,” he explained with an infectious grin. “So I stopped by my favorite restaurant and picked us up something to nosh on.”

The logo for the Little Dog Diner was emblazoned across the bag, and scents of shrimp, garlic bread and lobster rolls now mingled with those of the baked goods Nan had prepared earlier in the evening.

Nan pulled each item out of the bag and set it on the counter.

The moment the lobster rolls made an appearance, my cat jumped onto the counter and twirled in three tight circles.“It is! It is! It is!” he cried as he spun even still. “It’s my favorite food! Oh, Happy New Year to you, good sir.”

I stifled another laugh. Sometimes it was really hard not to react to the animals in front of others, especially as I remembered E.B. using Merry Christmasas a curse word when last we met.

“Wonderful, thank you so much for bringing it,” Nan said, and I could’ve sworn I saw a slight blush rise to her cheek. “Little Dog Diner is a favorite of ours, too.”

“I’ll get the plates,” Mags volunteered.

“And I’ll pour the drinks,” I chimed in.

Nan plated up a nice variety for each of us, and together we retreated to the formal dining room table. None of us were big drinkers, so we shared a bottle of celebratory cider instead.

And although I hadn’t known Mr. Gable and E.B. would join us, I was definitely happy they had.

“What should we toast to?” Mags asked, a sweet smile tilting her lips upward.

“Well, first of all,to you,” I sang out.“To you being a part of this family. To us getting to know and love you. And to you surviving the kidnapping.”

We all laughed at the not-so-distant memory.

“I’ll drink to that,” Mags said with a giggle.

“Wait. Just you wait one second,” Nan clucked. “I want your resolutions. That’s right, all of you.”

Mr. Gable stood.“I resolve that this year no one will get injured on my watch.”

“Does that mean the Holiday Spectacular is returning to Glendale?” I asked hopefully.

“Not quite,” he answered with a small sigh. “We’re moving it to Cooper’s Cove, but the remaining committee members, those who haven’t gone to jail, elected to keep me as the head. And I of course was happy to accept.”

Cheers rose around the table.

“That’s awesome!” Mags enthused. “But I hope you don’t mind that I probably won’t be going next year.”

We all laughed again. My heart remained light, mostly because I knew I’d be seeing lots more of Mags in the months to follow. In fact, we’d already begun planning a family reunion for the coming summer.

“All right, who’s next?” Nan asked, looking between Mags and me and waiting for one of us to volunteer resolutions.

“Mine’s easy,” I said, shooting to my feet and lifting my glass. “This will be the year I get my private investigation firm off the ground.”

“Our,” Octo-Cat corrected, though only I understood. “And when do I get my lobster roll?”

Mags drummed her fingers on the tabletop.“I don’t know what I want out of this year other than to try new things. New things are what brought us together, after all, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am now.”

“That’s a bold proclamation given what happened on Christmas Eve,” Mr. Gable quipped.

“It is,” she agreed, “but it also speaks of just how much I love my new cousin and my new Nan.”

Nan and I bothawwwed.

When the table grew quiet again, Nan rose with her drink in hand.“I live every day like it’s my first, my last, my everything. That’s how you make life fun, you know. But this year I’m going to be a bit more careful about who I let into my life, and maybe this year I’ll even find love again.”

She glanced coyly toward Mr. Gable, who blushed and looked away.

My heart did a giant happy somersault. I never would’ve pictured the two of them together but seeing it now made perfect sense. I wondered if they felt it, too. If they were already well on their way to something wonderful together.

Yes, the next year was looking pretty good as we dove into our meals, chatting and drinking happily enjoying the good company.

“Ahem,” my cat said, jumping onto the table and flicking his tail ominously.“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Ugh. Ihad forgotten his lobster roll in all the excitement over Nan and Mr. Gable’s possible forthcoming relationship.

“Off the table,” I told him, taking half of my lobster roll and setting it on the ground so that he would leave me in peace.

He jumped down after it, joy sparking in his amber eyes. He moved quickly but not quite enough.

As if from thin air, Paisley appeared and snatched the treat away, racing back toward E.B. with the giant hunk of food protruding from her impossibly small mouth.

“Unhand my sandwich, thief!” Octo-Cat cried.

“I’m sorry, Octavius,” she said, blinking slowly, as she regarded him. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I first smelled these things at the festival. You didn’t share then, but it’s okay. I forgive you.”

“Angela!” my cat cried, staring at me in horror. “She took my sandwich! She stole it!”

I laughed, unable to hide my amusement any longer.

I tossed him a large shrimp, which he pawed at morosely.

“It’s not the same” he mewled.

No, it wasn’t the same.

Nothing was the same as it had once been.

But you know what? Ever since Mags and Mr. Gable had joined our lives,it was better.

I couldn’t wait to see what the next year would bring.

10. RETRIEVER RANSOM

Chapter One

My name is Angie Russo. I live in the Blueberry Bay region of Maine, and I can talk to animals. Thanks to this unique—but mostly secret—skill, I’ve taken to solving mysteries around town.

Usually my involvement happens because I have a tendency to wind up in the wrong place at the wrong time, but now I’ve also hung out my hat as a private investigator. And just because I don’t have any clients, that doesn’t mean I’m not good at what I do.

Or more accurately, that we’re not good at what we do.

Yeah, my cat is my business partner, and we also get help from my quirky nan, her sweet Chihuahua Paisley, my lawyer boyfriend Charles, and even the handful of animals that live near our property—most notably, Pringle the raccoon who lives in a luxury tree fort in our backyard and is a tad addicted to reality TV.

Nan and Charles can’t talk to the animals like I do.

In fact, I’ve never met another living soul who can, and I still don’t know why I was blessed with this particular ability. All I know is that I got zapped by a faulty coffee maker, knocked unconscious, and woke up with a talking cat on my chest.

At first, I could only understand that one cat, but over time, my powers grew stronger. Now I can understand most animals, but occasionally I do still find a dud.

That same crabby tabby, Octo-Cat, wound up with me after we worked together to solve the murder of his previous owner. He came with a generous trust fund, a large coastal manor, and an endless string of color commentary about my life.

He has a girlfriend, a former show Himalayan named Grizabella. Their relationship is long distance and mostly sustained through my Instagram account. It’s equal parts adorable, hilarious, and groan-inducing.

But, hey, a happy cat means a happy me.

And I have a lot to be happy about lately, especially since my bad luck often results in good outcomes. First there was the zap that gave me Octo-Cat, then Nan’s impulsiveness landed Paisley in our lives, but those are nothing compared to the fact that a huge family secret had recently been cracked wide open.

Mom and I found out that Nan hadn’t been completely honest about our family’s origins even though she’d had more than fifty years to come clean. And, well, as awful as that whole thing was to discover, it also meant we were able to connect with long-lost family in Georgia, and thus I found the sister I never had in my cousinMags.

She came for a visit over the holidays and that went well…

Mostly.

She still doesn’t know my secret, but I think I’ll tell her next time we’re together. I probably should have told her before she returned home, but I was scared it would make her and the rest of our newfound family reject me.

I mean, did you believe me at first when I said I could talk to animals?

It’s totally crazy, but also totally true and totally a defining feature of my life—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

That brings us to today.

We just celebrated the start of a new year. Normally I don’t make resolutions, but this time I decided to do whatever it takes to finally get Octo-Cat’s and my P.I. business off the ground. Even though we can easily live off his trust fund and Nan’s retirement, there’s a special brand of shame in having to be supported by your cat.

I mean, I have seven associate degrees.

At least one of those should be good for a job.

And a job is exactly what I’ll have to get if my business doesn’t take off this year. My boyfriend Charles said he’d welcome me back at the law firm anytime, and while I love him dearly, I always hated being a paralegal.

It doesn’t matter, though, because I will succeed at this P.I. thing.

I’m too stubborn not to.

Besides, I’d really hate to let down my cat…

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“This is so exciting,” Nan trilled as we stood outside of city hall with a small crowd of other Glendalians to watch the incoming mayor get sworn into office.

Paisley barked merrily from within my grandmother’s arms.

Octo-Cat had requested to stay home, given his disdain for crowds, and that was a battle I hadn’t wanted to fight.

The mayor appeared at the top of the steps dressed in a fine navy suit with a light blue dress shirt and matching tie. At forty-seven, he was at least two decades younger than his predecessor. But while Mayor McHenry had been a family man, incoming mayor Dennison was a proud bachelor.

When asked about his singlehood by the press, he always said that his trusty golden retriever was more than enough family for him. Besides, less of a home life made it easier for him to give his full attention to making the humble town of Glendale the best it could be. Good answer, right?

As Dennison moved toward the podium now, a harsh boo rose from the crowd. Nan and I spun and saw a line of protestors holding signs that called for the new mayor to be ousted before he’d even fully taken up office.

“That’s in poor taste,” Nan hissed, shaking her head.

“Why does everyone hate him so much?” I whispered.

She shrugged.“Any time the party in office changes, somebody’s bound to be unhappy about it. The whole country’s a powder keg, so why not our town, too?”

I returned my gaze to Dennison, who stood stock-still with an unreadable expression. Poor guy. He’d won the election fair and square, yet he couldn’t even enjoy this pinnacle moment in his career.

“What’s going on, Mommy?” Paisley asked, wagging her tail in excitement, misreading the mood of the crowd.

I kissed her on the head and whispered,“Don’t worry about it.”

As much as I loved the optimistic little dog, explaining everything to her all the time often became exhausting—especially when we were in public and I couldn’t speak freely.

“People of Glendale,” the new mayor’s voice boomed despite the continuing sounds of protest. “Thank you for electing me to serve as your mayor.”

The boos and calls for him to resign grew louder.

Nan whooped and cheered beside me even though I knew for a fact she hadn’t voted for him. She smiled at me sheepishly. “Poor guy. Someone needs to encourage him.”

Now we both cheered.

Dennison’s eyes met mine, and he nodded subtly before continuing. “I promise to do everything in my power to make these next four years prosperous and safe for all of us. Thank you.”

He dipped his head, then disappeared back inside the building.

Octo-Cat would definitely be upset at having missed the drama of this day.

“Well, that was the shortest inauguration I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to all of them since moving out here some forty years ago,” Nan mused.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I mumbled. “People just need time to cool off after the election.”

“Yes, because all of November and December and most of January obviously weren’t enough,” Nan responded after sucking air through her teeth.

We stood in place waiting for the crowd to disperse. Some of them did, but the protestors seemed to grow in number as they crept closer to the stairs outside city hall.

“Let’s get out of here,” Nan said, shaking her head sadly.

I couldn’t agree more.

Chapter Two

I sat in the enormous bay window of my home library sipping an oversized mug of English breakfast tea while watching the snow swirl past.

Octo-Cat sat at my feet flicking his tail back and forth to the tuneless hum of our mostly silent house.“You wouldn’t catch me dead in that mess.”

I lowered my mug and cuddled deeper into the woven afghan wrapped around my shoulders.“What? The snow?”

He scoffed at my apparent naivete.“Snow, yeah. You can’t fool me. It’s nothing but semi-solid water. No, thank you.”

“You know…” A smile crept across my face as I waited for him to turn toward me. “Maine Coons supposedly love water, and you are part Maine Coon, right?”

He always claimed to be, but we both knew that was a lie.

Octo-Cat’s eyes slitted and his tail stilled. “Yes,” he answered slowly, cautiously. “But I’m also part tabby. Tabbies don’t like the water.”

“Of course.” I took another sip of tea to prevent a chuckle from escaping. Far be it from me to point out that Tabby was a coloration and not a breed. Everything Octavius said had to be taken at face value, lest we upset him.

He’d also gone to the Holiday Spectacular last month when the ground was covered in fresh snowfall and hadn’t complained too much—at least not for him. It seemed we’d now crossed the acceptable level of snow since then. Either that or he was passing judgment on my less than stellar job keeping up with the shoveling.

Light clacking sounded on the floorboards, and a moment later Paisley appeared, tail wagging in its usual dark blur.“Hello, Mommy. Can I cuddle, too?”

Octo-Cat groaned and rolled his eyes when the Chihuahua jumped onto my lap.

“I wanted to say hi before Nan and I go on our run. Hi!”

I gaped down at her.“You’re running in this?” The snow had to be twice as deep as she was tall.

She blinked wide eyes at me, confused by this question.“Why, yes. We run every day, come heck or high water.”

“Water,” Octo-Cat emphasized with a pointed flick of his tail. “Told you it was water.”

Nan and Paisley had started their recreational running hobby on January first and had kept up with it every day since. That was my grandmother for you. She always had a number of hobbies going, usually at least one that was artistic and one fitness based. Often many more than that, too.

This month’s commitment to running, however, seemed to be more about me than about herself. I often pointed out the fact my seventy-something Nan was in far better shape than twenty-something me, and that had become incredibly evident last month when we ran around downtown Glendale chasing killers, kidnappers, and more.

Apparently, I’d complained a bit too loudly and too often, because now Nan invited me to join her every single day—and I said “no” every single day.

Did she really think I’d be up for starting a new exercise regimen at the height of the cold season? Nope. No, thank you.

Sure enough, my worst fears were answered when Nan appeared about five minutes later. She was wearing a hot pink velour tracksuit and held a leopard print coat with a fur collar draped over one arm.“C’mon, we’ve got to get going a little early today. I have a quick stop-off to make before we hit the trail.”

I doubted there was a trail, unless she’d woken up early to shovel one herself. A giant yawn pushed its way out from my chest as a massive shiver racked through my body. “You and Paisley have fun out there!”

“Oh, no. Today you’re coming too,” Nan insisted, reaching for my hand and attempting to pull me from my seat.

I ripped away as if she’d scalded me with her soft touch. “Ha, ha. Nice try. Today’s answer is the same as it’s been every other day you’ve asked me. Octo-Cat and I will hold down the fort here. See you when you’re back.”

“Nope. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.” She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze threateningly.

“Why not? You’ve taken it every other day.” I was pushing my luck and I knew it.

She motioned toward the galactic space cats calendar that hung on the wall above my desk, then groaned and marched over to it. Flipping the page up, she pointed to a calico kitten flying through the stars in a giant cartoon taco shell.“It’s the first day of a new month. February.”

I stayed silent, accepting that the more I argued the harder she’d come down on me in the end.

Nan, however, refused to be dismissed.“You may have completely flubbed up January, but a new month means a new start.”

“Can I maybe start in a warmer month?” I glanced out the window again. Everything was white—the ground, the sky, my reflection as all the color drained from my face in fear. She meant it this time.

I was doomed, but I still had to give my resistance one last illfated shot.“I don’t have anything to run in,” I complained and forced a sad look.

“Ahh, but you do.” A giant smile lit Nan’s face. “You’ll find a new jogging suit that matches mine exactly. I also picked up some sport boots and thick wool socks. Everything’s waiting for you in your room. Chop, chop. Like I said, we have a quick stop-off to make before hitting the trail.”

Not even cute corn shell taco cats in outer space could save me now. I lifted my eyes to meet her, telepathically pleading for her to have some mercy.

It did not work.

“Five minutes,” she said firmly and then began tapping her foot, already beyond the limits of her patience with me. “Then I’m dragging you outside, whether or not you’re ready.”

We both knew she’d push me butt naked into the snow if I took even a second longer. We also both knew that she was the stronger of the two of us.

I raced out of the library and up to my tower bedroom to get ready. Octo-Cat’s smug laughter followed me every step of the way.

Chapter Three

I gripped the handle for the passenger side door of Nan’s little red sports coupe, but it didn’t budge. Normally, Nan not only unlocked the car in advance but she also remote started it so the interior would be toasty warm by the time we took off.

“We’re taking your car,” she called from the porch as she locked up then descended with Paisley in tow.

My car, however, was not where I usually parked it.

Noting my hesitation, Nan pointed toward the far side of the house.

My breaths burst out in icy puffs. As much as I didn’t look forward to running, at least it would make me warm. Right?

The moment I spotted my car, an indignant groan ripped right through me. My once-modest sedan had been outfitted with a hot pink snowplow.“What’s this?” I screamed.

Nan passed by me, opened the door, and situated herself in the driver’s seat. “For making the trail, of course.”

Oh, of course.“Why is it hot pink?”

She shot me a proud grin.“Because that’s my favorite color. You know that. I had it custom made.”

“And did you put it on all by yourself, too?” I managed. Even though my grandmother was in fantastic shape, it was hard imagining her heaving this enormous thing around single-handedly.

She waved off my question with a deft swirl of her hand.“Don’t be silly. I called Cal over to help.”

Great. The next time I saw our favorite local handyman, he’d be getting a very stern talking to. I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up.

Paisley immediately put her paws on the door and stared out the ice-covered window. I couldn’t imagine she saw much.

“Why are we in the car? We don’t need the car for running. We use our feet!”

Personally, I had other questions in mind.“Are you sure my car can handle this? There’s a reason these things are usually on trucks.”

Nan snorted.“This one’s made of plastic instead of metal. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Uh-huh. Famous last words.

Besides, how else are we supposed to carve out our running trail?” She turned the key in the ignition and my tacky, made-over car sputtered to life. We jerked forward, then stopped again just as suddenly.

“What happened?” I demanded of my grandmother.

She ignored me and pushed down on the gas pedal again. Nothing happened this time.

“Huh. Well, it was working last night” was the only thing she said about that.

“Too bad. I guess no running for us today.” I was already halfway out of the car and looking forward to a second cup of steaming hot tea in my favorite reading spot when Nan popped out of the car and called me to a stop.

“Not so fast,” she called after me. “We’ll take my car.”

I kept going, so close to being free to return to my regularly scheduled day.“If my car can’t handle that plow, there’s no way yours can.”

“Paisley, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay here. The snow’s too deep,” Nan explained, returning to the porch and setting the Chihuahua down beside the electronic pet door.

The poor little dog whined and looked to me for help.“Mommy, tell Nan I want to come. I always come.”

I didn’t need to translate that. Paisley’s whimpering and low-hung tail said it all. “I wish it was you instead of me, but Nan’s right about the snow being too deep.”

“Nonsense,” Paisley cried, then bolted down the stairs and took a flying leap into the nearest snowdrift, disappearing immediately. Not even the tips of her giant foxlike ears showed above the bank.

I rushed forward and scooped her into my arms.

She was too shocked to do anything other than shiver.“Cold. C-c-c-cold!”

“We’ll be back soon,” I promised loudly, then whispered just to Paisley, “Seriously. As soon as possible.”

She cried again as I set her back beside the pet door.

“Why don’t you go see what Octo-Cat is doing and if you can help?” I suggested.

And just like that, her tail lifted and began to wag once more. She pushed through the pet door, barking happily and calling for our cat housemate.

“All good?” Nan asked, quirking a questioning eyebrow my way.

“With Paisley at least,” I grumbled but followed her back toward the sports coupe and dutifully sank inside. This was going to be nothing short of torture.

“Where are we going?” I asked a few moments later when she still hadn’t explained herself.

“A friend from my community art class needs some extra help. This weather really triggers the arthritis in her joints, and with her twin grandkids off at college this year, she has no one to walk Cujo.”

I gasped in horror.“Cujo? I know we live in Stephen King’s home state, but c’mon. What kind of name is that for a dog, given, well, everything Cujo did?”

Nan sighed but didn’t turn to face me. “Big talk from someone who named her pet Octo-Cat.”

I wanted to laugh but luckily held it together.“Please tell me he’s not a Saint Bernard.”

“No, he’s a mutt. Husky mixed with something else. They’re not sure what.”

Well, we would find out soon enough.

And sure enough, even with the deep snow and icy roads, we were at Nan’s friend’s house five short minutes later.

“Wait here,” she instructed, marching around to the back of the house and returning with an enormous fuzzy beast on lead a few minutes later.

She motioned for me to get out and join them.“Might as well start our run from here.”

“Is that Cujo?” I asked, eyeing the dog hesitantly. He may not have been a Saint Bernard, but he was almost as big as one. His light blue—almost white—eyes made him even more unnerving to look at.

Nan chuckled.“Who else would it be, dear?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” the dog said, reminding me that—oh, yeah—I could talk to animals.

“Like what?” I asked, voice shaking with equal parts cold and nervousness.

“A human who talks? Curious.” Cujo breezed right past this revelation and answered my question head-on.

“Stop looking at me the way everyone does. Like I’m going to eat you. If the way you smell is any indication, you’d taste terrible.”

He opened his mouth and panted in what I assumed was a self-aggrandizing laugh.“Look, I’m a working dog. That means I focus on the job that needs to be done, and right now, that’s assisting your grandmother on her run.”

“Fair enough,” I answered, forcing myself to look away from his steely gaze.

“Hike! Hike!” Nan shouted and then took off at a pace I doubted I’d be able to match.

“Wait for me,” I cried as she and the oversized husky tore through the snow-covered suburban street.

The day had just begun, and already I was more than ready to get it over with.

Chapter Four

I’m pretty sure I almost died that morning.

Only almost, though.

Thankfully I managed to complete that wretched run without falling face forward into the snow like I feared every time my boot landed wrong on the poorly plowed street.

As much as I wanted to get in better shape, I didn’t think sprinting through a snowstorm was the way to do it. Cujo, however, seemed to heartily disagree. During the entire half-hour ordeal, he barked encouragements to both me and Nan, acting as our own personal doggie drill sergeant.

“Pick up the pace! That’s it! Let’s go! Hike!” he shouted while tugging hard on the leash and forcing us all to move as fast as our feet could carry us.

When we finally returned to his yard, he gave me a long piteous look and laid his ears back flat against his head.“You didn’t do a very good job today. We’ll have to train much harder so that you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?” I barked back, already beginning to shiver now that we’d stopped moving.

“Whatever comes next,” he answered—whether cryptically or dismissively I couldn’t quite tell. I also didn’t quite care, given my current level of exhaustion.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nan asked once we’d both settled back into her car. She couldn’t fool me, though. Even she had a hard time catching her breath after that muttsky-driven workout.

I laughed and leaned my head against the seat rest. Everything burned. Everything hurt. And I already knew Nan would force me to do the whole thing all over again tomorrow… and the next day… and the next day.

Working out with Nan would easily prove to be worse than a prison sentence. I just hoped warden Cujo’s time with us would be brief. I much preferred Paisley’s personal brand of encouragement—and her pace, too.

“Good effort out there today, dear. You’ve earned your sweets,” Nan told me when we arrived back home. Still brimming with energy, she scuttled into the kitchen to pick up with some mid-morning baking.

I could have argued the senselessness of exercising when we would only use it as an excuse to pile back on double or triple the calories in desserts but knew that somehow pointing this out would only lead to longer and more intense workouts. No thank you!

I had just begun the now painful climb up the stairs to my library when the doorbell chimed overhead.

Ping. Ping. Ding bing, it sounded to the tune of“Eye of the Tiger,” proving once and for all that Nan had planned today’s forced fitness well in advance.

“Coming!” I yelled and then slowly turned myself around. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

“What happened to you?” Octo-Cat asked while effortlessly trotting down the stairs and thus throwing his ease of mobility right in my poor, tired face.

“Nan happened to me,” I grumbled after drawing in a deep, ragged breath.

He raised a paw and chuckled.“Say no more.”

The doorbell chimed again.

Octo-Cat’s eyes glowed hot with judgment. “Well, aren’t you going to get that?”

“Coming!” I shouted again and forced myself to hobble faster through the foyer.

When I flung the door open with a giant grin of relief, I found a familiar face staring right back at me from the porch.“Mayor D-D-Dennison,” I sputtered in surprise. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Octo-Cat plopped himself down beside me, willing to brave the cold tendrils of air reaching in through the open doorway so that he could gain a front-row seat to whatever happened next.

The mayor removed his hat—an oversized Russian shapka—to reveal a messy head of hair. “May I please come in?”

“Angie!” Nan called as she hurried toward us, her gait completely unmired from that morning’s workout whereas I could hardly walk. “Is that the mayor? Well, don’t leave him standing out in the cold!”

She pushed past me and wrapped a motherly arm around Mayor Dennison’s broad shoulders to usher him toward the living room. “Let’s have a hot cup of tea to warm you up, then you can tell us everything.”

“Nan,” I interrupted. “He still hasn’t told us why he’s here.”

“Perfect, then he can tell us over tea. Gossip always goes down easiest with a nice, steaming mug in your hands. Wouldn’t you say?” Without waiting for either of us to respond, she returned to the kitchen, leaving me to make awkward small talk with the mayor at least half the town of Glendalenever wanted.

“Got a lot of snow out there,” I mumbled like an idiot. It was February in Blueberry Bay. Of course there was snow.

He nodded, smiled, glanced toward the kitchen.

I didn’t want to ask about politics since I already knew there was some contention there, but I also knew better than to ask about the purpose of his visit before Nan returned with the tea.

Luckily, Paisley came frolicking to our rescue, hopping right up onto the mayor’s lap. “I smell a doggie!” she trilled, wagging her tail curiously.

“She likes you,” I said with a grin. “Are you a dog person?”

Octo-Cat hissed somewhere from the other side of the room. He didn’t even like that question to be asked, let alone answered.

“I have—well, had—a dog,” the mayor answered with a wistful sigh. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I—”

“Oh no, you don’t!” Nan hurried back into the living room, balancing a small serving tray with three cups of tea and all the fixings. “Not without me.”

Our visitor cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap while Nan served. When at last we were all seated comfortably with our beverages and snacks, my grandmother motioned for him to continue.“Now you may continue.”

“I came because I heard you’re a private investigator,” he said to Nan, completely ignoring the mug that she’d handed to him.

She chortled at this.“Not me. Her.”

She pointed at me, and I waved awkwardly.

“Okay, either way. I need to hire you to help me.” He glanced pointedly in my direction.

“What seems to be the problem?” I asked, feeling oh so professional in that moment. Here I was, a proper investigator being called in to help the man who held the top political official in all of Glendale. It didn’t get any bigger than this for a small-town P.I.

But then he spoke again and shattered my newfound delusions of grandeur.“My dog, actually. He’s gone missing.”

I choked on my tea, which led to an awkward coughing fit.“Your dog?” I asked hoarsely. “What? Did he run away?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Marco didn’t leave on his own. He was taken.”

Nan raised a delicate eyebrow.“What makes you so sure?”

“Because the kidnapper left a note. A ransom note.” After delivering this news, the mayor finally took a sip of his tea, much to Nan’s satisfaction.

I sat back against the couch. My body remained tired, but my mind zoomed to life, a million gears all clicking at once.

Maybe this could still be a fascinating case, after all.

Chapter Five

“I brought it with me,” Mayor Dennison explained, then withdrew the folded ransom note from his wallet. He handed it over to me, and Nan edged closer to read it over my shoulder, her lips moving as she soundlessly voiced each word.

The note was typed on a plain white piece of computer paper. The font was so large it filled the entire page with just a few harsh words: Resign. Or the dog gets it.

“Well, what do they mean by that?” Nan quipped. “They should have been more specific.”

For the first time, I noticed that the usually stoic mayor had tears in his eyes.“Do you really think they’d hurt Marco?” he asked, momentarily casting his gaze toward the floor.

I swallowed down the dry lump in my throat and said,“I don’t know,” rather unhelpfully. We still had no idea who they could be.

“Please find out who did this,” he begged, actually folding his hands and shaking them my way. “I’ll pay. I’ll pay whatever you need. Marco is the only family I have. We’ve been through it all together, and I can’t stand the thought of anything untoward happening to him.”

“Who would want you to resign so badly that they’d resort to dognapping?” I asked, forcing myself to remain focused on the facts.

At the same time, Nan blurted out,“Of course we’ll take your case. Consider us hired.”

He glanced back and forth between us, apparently unsure who he should address first.

Octo-Cat appeared from wherever he’d been hiding and jumped onto the coffee table right beside Nan’s carefully arranged tea service. As he flicked his tail, he stared down his nose at the mayor, appraising our new client. “I don’t know if I want to help find a lost dog,” he said with a sneer. “This will forever go down in history as our first paying case, and it’s about a stupid dog?”

Paisley whined and covered her snout with her paws.

But Octo-Cat continued unperturbed.“I mean, it’s not even dead. We’ve been on a roll with the murders lately. Last time, we helped solve two murders. Two! Don’t you see? A dognapping case is beneath us.”

I shot my cat a disgusted look, wishing I could give him a firm tongue-lashing. Unfortunately, I had to ignore his sandpaper barbs as the mayor sat eyeing me intently.

“Yes, we’ll take the case. In fact, it will be our top priority,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring nod.

“Yeah,” Octo-Cat drolled. “Because we don’t have any other cases right now.”

I swept my hand across the coffee table and knocked him to the floor.“Bad kitty,” I said emphatically, knowing I’d pay for it later.

“Do you have any pictures of Marco?” Nan asked before taking a long slurp of her quickly cooling tea.

“He’s a golden retriever. Looks like a standard golden retriever, no unique markings or anything. I post all kinds of photos on my Facebook page, though, if you need them.”

“Thank you. That would be helpful,” I said, taking back over. I was the P.I. here, after all. “What we really need to talk about, though, is your enemies.”

“My enemies?” he asked, taken aback. His jaw set in a firm, hard line, and his eyes turned colder than our tea.

“Clearly you have some if one of them would resort to ransoming Marco. But before we get into that, would it be okay for me to address you by your first name or do you prefer it to be more formal…?”

He shook his head, his normally placid expression returning just as quickly as it had left.“Yes, of course. Call me Mark.”

It struck me then that I either hadn’t heard his first name before or that I’d at least never connected the fact that he’d named his dog after himself, then tacked on one extra syllable. Mark. Marco.

“Mark,” I said, forcing myself to keep a straight face. “Mark it is.”

We all sat silently for a moment.

“Now, I know it can’t be easy to talk about, but it’s important. Given the show at the inauguration, your election has been quite controversial. Why is that?”

Although I didn’t follow politics closely, I’d read the odd news report on this topic. Still, I wanted to get Mark’s take on the situation to see what added insights he could provide.

He licked his lips and steepled his fingers before him.“The usual things mostly. The fact I’m a bachelor is a big one. How can a single man be committed to building a family community? they all ask.” He scoffed at this, pausing briefly before he continued.

“And as you know, the vote was quite close. I won by hardly more than a percentage point. My opponent’s supporters demanded a recount, but that was ultimately deemed a waste of taxpayers’ money, and so I was sworn in.”

I knew all this. The mayor had to be holding something back. Neither of these reasons were enough for someone to threaten harm to a lovable golden retriever, whether or not they disliked his owner. Golden retrievers were largely considered America’s top family dog, and I’m sure it won back some points for the mayor that he had one.

Still, something wasn’t quite adding up.

“Is that all?” I asked cautiously.

“That’s all,” Mark assured me with a quick nod.

Octo-Cat settled himself onto my feet, but not before giving my big toe a solid bite as punishment for my stunt earlier.“He’s lying,” the tabby informed me with a low growl.

I took a deep steadying breath, then focused my gaze back on the mayor.“Are you sure there’s nothing else? No other possible reason for the kidnapping?”

“None,” Mark insisted, smiling reassuringly in my direction.

“He’s still lying,” Octo-Cat revealed, but I could now see that for myself, too. “Definitely lying.”

“Oh…kay,” I said slowly, breaking the small word into two distinct sounds. “Then why don’t you tell me about the last few days. Did anything unusual happen? Did anyone seem extra interested in Marco at this time?”

As I listened to the mayor prattle on about his busy life, I couldn’t help wondering why he’d hire me and then withhold at least part of the truth.

A dishonest client, no doubt, would make solving the case much more difficult. Still, I couldn’t allow Marco to suffer for his owner’s crimes—whatever they were.

I guess we’d be finding out soon enough.

Chapter Six

After Mayor Dennison left, Nan, the animals, and I huddled together at the large dining room table to recap.

“So we have another kidnapping,” Nan said thoughtfully. “We’ve dealt with those before. Recently at that.”

She was right. I’d already been thinking about our past abduction cases myself. They had both proven to be the most nerve-wracking investigations I’d ever faced. Both had hit incredibly close to home, too.

First, Octo-Cat disappeared at the exact same time the other beneficiaries of Ethel Fulton’s will had called for an arbitration in an attempt to relieve him of his inheritance. The culprit in that case had been exceedingly angry when we’d found Octo-Cat and taken him back—she’d even wound up with a nasty cat-inflicted wound that would probably scar. We’d seen neither hide nor hair of the folks involved in that kidnapping in the time since.

Then the second one happened. On Christmas Eve, my cousin Mags had been taken right off the street at the annual Holiday Spectacular fair. She’d been kept blindfolded and was ultimately let go when the crooks—a man and a woman—got spooked and ran.

They’d meant to take me but had mistakenly abducted my eerily similar looking cousin instead. They called her “Russo”—my last name—and warned her to keep her nose out of places where it didn’t belong.

Well, Mags had returned to her home in Larkhaven, Georgia, no worse for the wear, and we hadn’t heard from her mysterious kidnappers since.

I doubted the ransomed retriever had anything to do with either of those cases, but reviewing our history at least gave us a place to start with this new investigation.

“Are you thinking about when Mags and Octo-Cat were taken?” Nan asked, steepling her fingers and tapping them against her chin.

I nodded, then sighed.“Both were so horrible.”

“Mark is probably going out of his mind with worry for his poor dog,” she said with a wrinkled frown.

“Actually, I’m not so sure.” I shot a glance toward Octo-Cat, who’d seated himself on the opposite side of the table and taken up a vigorous grooming session focused primarily on his forehead and ears.

He paused and nodded his approval.

“Per Octo-Cat, the mayor was lying to us. Or at least hiding something important,” I revealed as I played the conversation back through my head.

“About which part?” Nan wondered aloud.

I shook my head, yet again wishing I knew the answer.

She snorted.“Well, that’s helpful.”

“Still, at least we know to take what little he told us with a giant grain of salt.”

Nan considered this, then stood suddenly, flinging her chair backward with such force it startled me and both animals.

“Where are you going?” I asked as she scurried toward the coat closet off the foyer.

She didn’t look back as she explained, “If the mayor isn’t going to tell us the truth, then we’ll have to go find it for ourselves.”

“Online?” I asked meekly even as she’d already begun to pull on her hot-pink snow boots.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Outside.”

Ugh. That was the exact place I wanted to avoid, given our current polar vortex situation.

“I’m not going,” Octo-Cat said from his place a few stairs up from the ground floor.

I paused between shoving my mitten on one hand and readying it for the other.“Why not? You always come. You’re my partner, after all.”

He turned his nose up at me.“Yeah, well, this partner doesn’t do subzero temperatures.”

“It’s still at least five degrees out there. And this isn’t some stupid jog, it’s part of our investigation. C’mon.”

“Let me rephrase that.” He paused and took several deep breaths before continuing. “I don’t do cold and wet. It’s like the whole world decided to take a bath and then let the water grow frigid. I don’t do baths. And if my fur coat isn’t enough to keep warm, then I’m not going.”

“Fine. Then you’re not going. But you also better not complain about being left out.” I turned away from him and began to dress for the impromptu outing.

“Please. I have better things to do with myself than follow you around on your wild goose chase.” He yawned to emphasize his point.

Paisley ran up beside Octo-Cat, wagging her tail so vigorously she stumbled and fell down one of the steps.“Mommy, I’m coming, right?”

“Of course you are!” I assured her.

“Just one last thing and we can go,” Nan said, reaching for a plastic shopping bag on the top shelf of the closet and pulling out a baby pink sack. “It’s the wrong shade of pink, but it will have to do.”

I eyed the cloth accessory warily.“What is it?”

“I’ll show you! C’mere, my sweet girl.” Nan smacked her lips and bent down to pick up the Chihuahua who came running straight into her arms. She then worked the straps of the sack over her arms so that it rested against her chest.

Paisley realized what was going on about the same time I did and began to wiggle in desperate fright.“No, no, no! I don’t want to go in the bag!” she yelped.

“Just hold still for a second, my dear,” Nan instructed, wrestling with the Chihuahua to wedge her into the baby carrier.

Paisley continued to whine and squirm.

“Angie, can you please tell her this will be a lot easier if she cooperates?” Nan grunted.

“Sweetie, you need to—” I began, but Nan interrupted with a triumphant “Ah-ha!”

The poor little Chihuahua had been tucked into the carrier and strapped in securely. Only her tiny face and giant ears peeked out from the top.

Nan spun and posed.“What do you think?”

Octo-Cat laughed heartily.“Ha, ha, you look ridiculous!” he crowed.

Paisley whimpered and sighed.

“I’m not so sure she likes it,” I offered.

“Well, she just has to get used to it is all. It will help keep her warm while we’re out and about. It’s made especially for little dogs like her, you know. By the way, you’ll have to drive. We can take my car, though.”

“Okay,” I said and followed my grandmother outside to her car. It was easier to just go along with what she said. At least this wouldn’t require any grueling exercise.

Or so I sincerely hoped…

Chapter Seven

Mayor Dennison live in a surprisingly modest house on the far edge of town. Part of me had hoped we’d have housekeepers, cooks, butlers, and a full garrulous staff to question, but just like crime—small-town politics didn’t pay.

It was clear Mayor Mark lived alone. It was also clear that nobody was at home. What wasn’t clear was how Nan knew where to find him.

“Think we can break in?” she asked now, rifling through her pockets for who knew what.

Paisley heaved a giant sigh from her place affixed to the front of Nan’s chest. I had to admit, she looked absolutely adorable in that Puppy Bjorn.

“I’d rather not start our investigation by committing a B&E,” I said. My breath rose above us in icy puffs.

“Look at you with the lingo,” Nan crooned, clutching a hand to her chest, or rather to Paisley on her chest. “You don’t have to help, but—yeah—I’m breaking in.”

I groaned. Of course she was.

Paisley whined and shivered so violently I was surprised that Nan didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you okay?” I asked the dogcicle.

“S-S-S-S-So c-c-c-cold,” she answered weakly.

“Nan,” I called as she moved toward the porch with a sure stride. “Nan, we need to put Paisley back in the car with the heat running.”

“N-N-N-N-No,” Paisley cried, her eyes practically sealed shut with quick freezing tears. “I w-w-want to h-h-help.”

“I’m not letting you catch your death,” I promised whether or not she wanted to hear it. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to the car.”

“Hang on a minute there,” Nan muttered. “We’ll be inside the house in just a…” She bit her tongue as she maneuvered something in the lock.

“Second,” she finished triumphantly and pushed the door open, motioning for me to lead us inside.

Oh, I didn’t like this at all. As bad as it was to take part in this unlawful entry, it would have been even worse to send Nan inside unsupervised.

“Five minutes,” I hissed between clenched teeth. “Then we go, no matter what.”

“Well, you’re no fun.”

I ignored that last barb and searched the tidy open floor plan for something that might prove useful in our investigation.

“Look for a home office,” Nan suggested, already sneaking deeper into the house.

“Hello?” A deep voice called from the top of the staircase, turning my blood cold despite the warm air inside.

My eyes zoomed toward the mayor, who stood in a matching flannel pajama set staring at us with huge, unblinking eyes.“Oh, Mark, hi,” I sputtered, unable to rip my eyes away. How were we going to explain this one?

Even though I had no answers, Nan was quick to save the day.

“Didn’t you hear us knock?” she asked, bringing both hands to her hips.

The mayor looked back behind him for a second.“No, I was—”

“Well, then you should at least lock your door. Really, anyone could wander in off the streets.”

He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head with a sigh.“You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

We all stood staring at each other for a few silent moments.

Finally Mark spoke up, putting the uncomfortable moment to rest.“Can I, uh, help you with something?”

“We wanted to talk with you a bit more about the… the-the… the case,” I explained quickly, stumbling over a few choice words. “We don’t have much to go on and thought—”

“I told you everything I know,” the mayor interrupted with a scowl. “It’s all I have. That’s why I hired you to find and put together the rest of the pieces. Are you suggesting you’re not up for the task?”

Nan laughed at this.“Oh, we’ll handle it. Don’t you worry. Your case is as good as solved with Pet Whisperer, P.I.”

I still hated that name, but Nan and Mom had both made sure I’d be stuck with it going forward.

Mark straightened to his full height and finally descended the stairs.“Well, good. That’s just what I needed to hear.”

“Since we’re here,” I jumped in smoothly before the mayor could push us out the door. “Would you mind giving us a quick tour as it relates to Marco and his daily schedule? It always helps to get into the victim’s head when we can.”

“Yes, a tour would be most helpful,” Nan agreed, nodding vigorously.

Paisley barked her agreement. The way the carrier shook suggested that she had tried rather unsuccessfully to wag her tail.

“Sure. Okay.” Mark shook his head, ran another hand through his hair, then waved for us to follow. What followed was a lengthy description of the missing golden retriever’s daily comings and goings, including when and what he ate, where he liked to sleep, his favorite spots to pee in the yard, and more.

“So as I’m sure you can see,” the mayor said when the tour concluded, “despite my own busy schedule, Marco was well taken care of and very much loved. Please bring him home safely. And soon.”

“We will. We will,” Nan assured him.

Personally, I would rather under promise and overdeliver.“We’ll do everything we can,” I said as we shook hands goodbye.

Paisley, however, had other, more important things on her mind.

“Marco has good instincts,” she whispered in admiration on our way out. “If I lived here, I would choose to pee there, too.”

I glanced toward the area on the side of the house the mayor had pointed out mid-way through our tour. The snow was too fresh and too deep to give anything away.

But, well, at least our abducted dog had good taste in pee spots. As for our case, we still had absolutely nothing to go on.

Yet.

Chapter Eight

“Wow, that human really loves his dog,” Paisley observed on the drive home. I’d taken her out of the pet carrier as soon as Nan had handed her over to me and settled herself behind the wheel. She’d since repaid me with no less than a few dozen enthusiastic doggie kisses.

Her debt paid, Paisley had now turned her mind back to the investigation.“I feel so sad that they have been separated. We’re going to get his dog back soon. Right, Mommy?”

I kissed the small white spot on the Chihuahua’s forehead. “Yes, we will.”

The little dog wagged her tail and opened her mouth in a panting grin.

Later, Nan sighed as she made the turn into our driveaway.“Well, that accomplished exactly nothing.”

“I don’t know what you expected. He’s our client, not the suspect. Even though I agree with Octo-Cat that he’s hiding something. I also agree with Paisley that he really loves that dog.”

“So much that he won’t give us all the information that we need to get him back?” Nan chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Whatever he’s hiding, we don’t know whether it’s related to the ransom,” I pointed out as the car bumped along the icy drive.

Finally, Nan parked and the three of us raced inside as fast as our feet would carry us. Octo-Cat sat waiting for us in the center of the coffee table.

“Well?” he asked with one raised eyebrow. “How did the breakin go?”

I stared at him in disbelief.“Who says we broke in?”

“Please. Nan went, so you were bound to break in. It’s what she does.” He chuckled merrily to himself.

Touch?.

“So?” He raised the other eyebrow. “How’d it go?”

“Oh, right. Unfortunately, there’s not much to tell. We got caught and then got a very detailed tour and description of Marco’s day-to-day routine.”

“Yuck. I’m glad I missed that.” My cat shuddered, shaking off several loose hairs in the process.

I watched them dance through a nearby sunbeam, entranced.

“We’re still at square one,” Nan muttered, “but I refuse to stay there.”

I watched her shrug out of her winter gear and then reach back into the closet. Sometimes I suspected our foyer closet wasn’t unlike Mary Poppins’s magical bag. It seemed she never ran out of space and always had exactly what she needed waiting. This time, Nan pulled out poster board, Sharpies, sticky notes, and a pack of little magnifying glass stickers, then dumped them all onto the living room coffee table.

Octo-Cat had to leap out of the way to avoid being buried under the falling heap of craft supplies.“Watch it, old lady!”

I shot him a withering look, then returned my focus to Nan. Unlike my snarky tabby, she at least had a plan—one with flair at that.

She arranged all her supplies just so and then set to work, using a dark green marker to divide the neon green poster board into three evenly spaced sections. Next, she selected the black marker and scrawled People at the top of one column, then Places and Events on the others.

Out came the stickers, which she used to create bullet points, three down each column.

“We’ll start with three each, but don’t worry, I have enough stickers to match however many ideas we come up with. So what’s the first one? How about a person?” Nan stared at me expectantly, a blue marker uncapped and at the ready.

She’d created a similar setup when Octo-Cat had gone missing, so I knew exactly what she expected during today’s shared brainstorm.

“Start with his opponent,” I directed. “The one he very narrowly beat in the election. He definitely has a grudge.”

Nan nodded and wrote the name down.“I’ll add Brenda Eaves. She was one of the folks protesting at the inauguration, and if we play our cards right, I bet we can get her to tell us the names of the others, too.”

Octo-Cat watched in silence while Paisley snoozed on my lap. Tiny whimpering sighs escaped her muzzle as she dreamed.

“How about—?” I was just about to suggest a third suspect when a sudden, persistent tapping drew my attention to the window.

Octo-Cat spotted the source before I could and startled me by rearing up to hiss. He hissed often, but very rarely went full into Halloween kitty mode.

I followed his line of sight and found our favorite backyard roommate staring straight back at me with a cheesy smile.“Pringle! What are you doing here?”

He motioned toward his ear and shook his head. The raccoon’s mannerisms seemed so human at times and were only becoming more so, given his insane addiction to reality TV.

“I know you can hear me!” I shouted louder.

He shook his head harder.

“Fine!” I threw my hands up and stomped toward the door. The very moment I flung it open, the plump gray ball of fur scuttled inside.

Our primary rule with Pringle was that he was not allowed in the house. He’d committed too much blatant destruction and secret thieving to keep that particular privilege.

“You invited me!” he shouted back over his shoulder without so much as a glance my way. “No takesy-backsies!”

“Noooooo!” Octo-Cat screamed in utter agony. “He’s eating my Delectable Delights!”

I sprinted into the kitchen, but the raccoon had already gulped down the whole bowl of crunchies. Normally, Octo-Cat didn’t do dry food, but ever since his beloved long-distance girlfriend Grizabella had become the spokesmodel for the new brand, he’d made the difficult choice to switch his loyalty away from Fancy Feast and toward Delectable Delights.

He stumbled into the kitchen and mock-fainted, falling to his side dramatically. The fact that his tail still flicked in irritation was proof enough he hadn’t lost consciousness.

Still, I had to agree with him here. Pringle was way out of line.

“I didn’t invite you inside,” I hissed in the thieving critter’s direction.

“You opened the door. Same difference, yeah?” He jumped onto the counter and helped himself to a freshly baked muffin, then stood on his hindlegs and simpered at me with narcissistic joy.

“So what did I miss?” he asked, taking a huge bite and chewing with his mouth open. “Did we have a new case come in?”

“It’s not your case!” Paisley barked as she scampered across the tile floor to join us. Then, bless her, she began to jump in a desperate attempt to join the raccoon on the counter. There was no way the diminutive pup would ever reach, but I appreciated her moxie all the same.

So now there we stood in our private domestic calamity.

Paisley barked.

Octo-Cat swooned again, lifting himself slightly from the floor and falling down in a dramatic heap.

Pringle watched both and laughed as he feasted on baked goods.

“Stop dawdling and get back in here!” Nan shouted.

I downed a pair of painkillers for my quickly growing headache and marched back into brainstorm headquarters, AKA my former living room.

All the animals followed, and Nan jumped straight back into business.

“Now we obviously need to return to the mayor’s house when we can.” She paused and wrote that down. “What other places should we make sure to check as part of our investigation?”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Pringle’s hand shot high into the air. “I know! I know! Pick me! Pick me!”

I could scarcely hold back my irritated groan. Something told me this was going to be a very long and painful afternoon.

Chapter Nine

I had to work hard to hold back my laughter when Pringle marched across the room and ripped the marker right out of Nan’s hand.

“I’ll take that,” he said as he began to scribble at the bottom of the last column, completely ruining Nan’s perfectly organized mind map.

He scrawled furiously for close to a minute, then drew away from the board and recapped the marker with a self-satisfied smirk.“There. You’re welcome.”

I studied the writing closely but couldn’t figure out what it was meant to say. We’d famously discovered that Pringle could read when he stole an important letter that revealed long-kept family secrets and turned our world upside-down.

Apparently, though, he didn’t possess even minor writing skills. It wasn’t just poor penmanship, either. The markings looked more like hieroglyphics than actual letters of the alphabet.

“Um, what’s it supposed to say?” I asked at last.

He snorted, then crossed the whole thing out.“If you’re going to act like that, you don’t deserve my help.”

Octo-Cat growled and pounced at the rude raccoon.“Nobody talks to my human like that—nobody except for me!”

“I’m the new and improved you, baby. Deal with it,” Pringle spat back, placing a hand on each hip and laughing at the irate feline.

Paisley barked and ran large, looping circles around the other two animals as they prepared to fight.

“Stop! Stop!” I cried, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

My cat pulled his front paws up and set his ears back flat against his head.

The raccoon drew nearer, stalking on all fours until he was mere inches away, then he rose upright as well.

I held my breath and the moment seemed to freeze in time.

Both combatants stared at each other, unblinking. Each waiting for the other to strike first.

Octo-Cat raised a paw slowly, slowly… and then like lightning he batted Pringle right in the face.

“Oh, no you didn’t!” the raccoon shouted and began slapping Octo-Cat in the chest with both hands at rapid speed.

My cat swiped back, landing one strong blow for every ten mini slaps that came from Pringle.

I didn’t know what to do.

Part of me wanted to grab a video camera and put this on YouTube to see if we could reach viral fame, but a much larger part was afraid that Octo-Cat would take a solid beating. I couldn’t let that happen, especially since this had all started over him coming to my defense.

And then Paisley redirected the path of her latest circle and took a running leap, which landed her right on top of the battling mammals.

“Mommy said stop it!” she barked.

“Really? You sent in the pipsqueak dog?” Pringle shot me a venomous look. “I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life. I’m outta here.”

He marched into the foyer with his nose held so high in the air that he nearly collided with the wall for lack of visibility. The shock of it stopped him dead in his tracks.

I watched dumbfounded as Pringle heaved a few giant breaths, then turned back toward us and came running on all fours.“I’m taking these,” he announced before unceremoniously gathering up a handful of markers and the poster board we’d been using to chronicle the case facts and making his final exit—one made far less dramatic by the fact he had to push, pull, yank, and maneuver the poster board in several different directions before finally getting it out through the pet door with him.

“Great. That’s just great,” Nan groused. “Now we’ll have to start all over.”

“Let’s take a snack break first,” I suggested, still unable to believe how far off the rails this activity had already gone.

“I’m okay by the way,” Octo-Cat informed me with a sniff. “You could at least show a little concern for your night of shining stars.”

I shook my head; unsure I’d heard correctly. “My what?”

The tabby sighed and cast me a disapproving look.“Night of shining stars. You know, your rescuer?”

“My knight in shining armor,” I suggested.

“Yeah, whatever. You humans have the weirdest expressions. I see a night of shining stars every day, but I’ve never seen a knight in shining armor. Have you?”

Well, he had me there.

A change of topic was needed, and fast.“I’m making sandwiches,” I announced, heading for the kitchen.

“Turkey for me, please,” Nan called after me.

“Me, too!” Octo-Cat added as he trotted after me.

“Me, three!” Paisley cried but remained with Nan.

When I returned with our tray of sandwiches, I found Nan engrossed in some story playing on the local news station.

A vision of my mother, the long-time anchor, filled the screen. She looked lovely today in a lavender blouse and dark pencil skirt. Mayor Mark Dennison sat opposite her in their in-studio interview room.

The ticker at the bottom of the screen revealed: Dognapped! The new mayor’s golden retriever is threatened!

“I just can’t believe anyone would take out their political frustrations on Marco. He’s a great dog and doesn’t deserve any of this.” He turned toward the camera, eyes full of unshed tears. “Please, if you took my Marco, please bring him back. I’ll do anything.”

Nan scoffed.“Yeah, anything but resign apparently.”

She said it. Pretty much the only thing I knew about our case so far is that I didn’t much care for our client.

Why was he doing a publicity interview when he should be out searching for his missing dog?

It just didn’t make any sense.

Chapter Ten

After the discomfiting news interview concluded, Nan switched off the TV and sashayed into the foyer. Apparently we were going out—again. Yes, for the third time that day. This wouldn’t bother me so much if the temperature hadn’t now dipped south of zero. Brrr.

Paisley pranced after me as I joined Nan at the coat closet.“Where to now?” I groaned.

“To the library!” Nan declared, raising a finger in the air and pointing dramatically toward the ceiling.

I glanced up with a curious expression.

“No, not that library. The public one.” Nan looped a brightly colored, handknit scarf around her neck, then buttoned up her coat.

“Sorry, girl,” I told the eager Chihuahua at my feet. “You’re going to have to sit this one out.”

“What? Why?” she whined, tucking her tail to cover her privates. “I want to come, too, Mommy.”

“No pets at the library,” I said with an apologetic shrug. “Besides, it’ll be boring.”

“Says you,” Nan muttered, but luckily Paisley was far too focused on me to notice anything else.

“I’m staying here,” Octo-Cat announced a moment later.

“Good, because you’re not invited.”

“What? No. I want to come,” he protested.

Hmm. I’d have to try that reverse psychology trick on him later. For now, though, he honestly couldn’t accompany us.

“Sorry,” I said even though I didn’t really feel it. “Library rules.”

Turning to Nan, I mouthed,“go now.” We rushed out the door and into the car before either pet could join us.

“What are you hoping to find at GPL?” That’s Glendale Public Library, by the way. I’d always been a huge fan, which was why the library and I were on an acronym basis.

Nan shook her head.“Not me, you.”

“Okay.” I swallowed down my argument. “What am I hoping to find at GPL?”

“You’re going to search back issues of all the area papers to see what you can learn about the mayor’s past.” She checked her hair in the rear-view mirror, then applied a coat of light pink lipstick.

I resisted the urge to check my appearance, mostly because it didn’t much matter. “And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to dig around on those social media sites to see what I can learn about his private life in recent years,” my grandmother explained with a grin. Of course, she’d keep the more interesting task for herself.

“Remember,” she said after parking outside the squat brick building. We were one of only a handful of cars that had braved the elements to visit the library today. One of them—an old van—looked familiar but I couldn’t quite place it.

“Hmm?” I asked, drawing my eyes back toward Nan.

“Remember,” she repeated with a sigh. “Same three columns. People, places, events. Jot down anything that sticks out, and we’ll reassemble our brainstorm board once we’re back home.”

“Got it,” I said with a quick nod of affirmation.

None of our cases had ever brought us here before, but then again none of our other victims had such a public record as Mayor Mark Dennison.

Even though we’d once investigated the murder of a senator, the circumstances had been totally different. Clues had thrown themselves at us left and right then; we’d never really had the chance to step back and research the history.

Today, Nan made a beeline for the computer bank as soon as we passed through the double glass doors. Since I didn’t know quite where to begin with my task, I approached the librarian scanning in books at the main desk. She was young, probably new, given the fact I’d never come across her before—at the library or otherwise.

“Hi there. How can I help you?” she asked with a tight nod.

“I’m looking for back issues of the Blueberry Bay newspapers. Do you have, um, microfiche, I guess?”

Her eyes widened as she took me in a bit more fully.“How far back are you looking to go?”

That was a good question. How far back did I need to go to uncover the mayor’s political skeletons? Probably not too far, given his relatively young age.

“How about five years?” I decided at last.

The librarian chuckled as she stepped around the desk and motioned for me to follow her.“You don’t need microfiche for that. Everything’s digitized these days. C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the archives.”

She delivered me to the same bank of computers where Nan already sat deep in her research and clicked on an unfamiliar looking icon at the bottom of the screen.

“There,” she declared. “This is the homepage for our digital collections. We don’t have a lot compared to the fancy big city libraries like Portland or Bangor, but for such a small town, we have a rather impressive collection.”

“Thank you,” I said, scanning the list of periodicals on the site while the librarian hovered over my shoulder. I’d done some archival research during my college days, but on far broader topics. I’d never looked for something so specific or for something I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to find.

The young librarian patted my shoulder and smiled again.“I’ll just be at the desk. Give me a whisper if you need anything.” With that, she walked away, chuckling to herself.

I scanned headlines starting with this week’s and slowly working back through time. Like the mayor had said, most people who opposed him did so because of his relative lack of experience coupled with his status as a proud bachelor and his narrow win in the election.

I found several letters to the editor that complained about precisely these facts. By noting the names of the letter writers when available and the dates on which the letters were published, I was able to compile quite the list to share during our next group brainstorm.

“Find anything juicy?” Nan asked from across the way using a hushed tone.

I glanced up to find her peering between two of the computers to watch me.“Not much,” I admitted.

“Well, then hurry. Come over here. You’ll never believe what I just found.”

Chapter Eleven

I turned off the monitor on my computer and walked the long way around the computer bank, bringing myself to hover over Nan’s seated form.

She had several different browser windows open; the topmost was Mark Dennison’s personal Facebook profile.

“How long have you two been friends?” I asked in surprise.

“Since about twenty minutes ago,” she replied with a distracted smile as she pointed to a status toward the bottom of the feed.

I had to hand it to her, she worked fast and effectively.

“Look right here,” Nan continued. “This post is from several years back and about six months before the mayor adopted Marco.”

I read over her shoulder:

Should we really elect this candidate just because his wife came down with cancer? Sure, it’s sad, but it doesn’t change his politics. Vote with logic. Not sympathy.

“What a charmer,” I remarked.

“You said it.” Nan scrolled back up toward the top of the page. “There are a few other posts commenting on current events in a similar manner, and then—boom!—puppy Marco shows up and takes over his feed.”

I blinked hard.“So what do you think that means for our current case?” I asked, not wanting to connect the dots even as they were laid right out before me.

“Well, if you were really unpopular, what would you do to try to boost your own support?” Nan asked with a soft chuckle. “I, of course, can’t answer that question, having always been well liked in my day.”

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes Nan sounded too much like Octo-Cat for my liking.“Anything else?”

“You can see right here in plain writing that he believes these tactics work whether or not he likes them. And, look, he keeps referring to the new puppy as his family. The lack of a family has been the public’s number-one criticism of him ever since he first decided to run for public office. He started with the local school board, I believe. It’s the easiest in since there are so many spots.”

I hated this. If Nan was right… That poor dog had never been anything more than an extra ballot.

“So you don’t think he loves Marco? You think it is some kind of maneuver?”

“If you consider the timing of it all, things certainly look suspicious.”

“Suspicious. Right,” I said with a sigh. “Everything about this is suspicious. Maybe Octo-Cat is right. Murders are easier than kidnappings.”

“For someone who didn’t want him to come with us, you’re sure talking about that cat a lot.” Nan smiled to herself. “Now tell me what you were able to find in the papers.”

I swallowed down a lump in my throat.“Nothing. We’ve only been here a few minutes.”

“And yet that was enough time for me to find this golden nugget. Get it? Golden? As in retriever?”

I shook my head, refusing to laugh at such an obvious pun.“Does that mean we’re done here?” I asked instead.

“Not quite.” Nan closed all the Internet windows and brought up the library’s internal search engine. “While we’re here I think I’m going to check out a couple of books that have knitting patterns.”

Nan never failed to surprise me, and this latest revelation was no exception.“Knitting? I thought you gave that up. You said it was for old ladies, remember?”

“I did, but it’s been cold. And I thought EB could use a sweater to help keep her warm.”

Ah, EB. Nan’s new kind of, sort of boyfriend’s pet rabbit. EB was short for Easter Bunny, and that nervous little rabbit had helped us solve our last case—two homicides and a kidnapping, all solved in record time.

Somehow, I didn’t think EB would like being restricted by a knit straightjacket, but at least it would keep Nan happy and busy.

“Okay. While you do that, I’ll keep searching the newspapers. Surely, there must be something helpful there.”

Nan powered down her computer and shuffled into the back of the library.

I closed my eyes, willing something to appear on my screen, something that could help. While I appreciated Nan’s theory, I couldn’t believe someone would commit to a pet for such a superficial reason as a few extra votes.

I thought back to our conversations with the mayor earlier that day.

Whatever his motivations before, Mark Dennison clearly loved Marco now and wanted nothing more than his safe return… Right?

I flipped through the digital archives for another hour or so. The most interesting thing I found was an old editorial discussing bachelors in politics and how they really weren’t suited to the job at hand.

Poor Mark. It seemed the whole world was against him. Part of me felt bad for questioning him about anything. Keeping the truth at least partially concealed came with the job; it was the politician’s way. Obviously, the public would use whatever it could take to rake him through the coals, burning or not.

When I’d finished my uneventful research, I found Nan sitting in the Young Adult section chatting with a redheaded girl in braided pigtails. All she needed was a sock monkey and she’d be the perfect likeness of Pippi Longstocking.

While Nan was arguably too old for the literature at hand, Pippi here wasn’t quite mature enough. She appeared to be nine years old at the absolute most. Her freckles covered her skin so completely it almost changed the color of her complexion.

“Are you ready to go home?” I asked, feeling like I was my grandmother’s mother in this situation.

“Not just yet,” Nan said with a higher pitched voice than usual. “Betsy and I here were just discussing the circumstances surrounding Lord Voldemort’s second rise to power. Now Betsy, you were saying that Nagini was more than just a snake. Care to extrapolate on that?”

I groaned and turned away. As much as I loved Harry Potter myself, I suspected having a deep discussion with Nan about the lore would take some of the fun out of it for me.

Then again, I did love to read, and I was at a library. Maybe I could have a quick nose around, pick something fun to read for once this case was put to bed.

Although I normally favored novels, I found myself wandering toward the section on unusual pets. I’d been lucky so far with the animals who had inadvertently joined our P.I. Practice, but what would I do if I found an armadillo or a chinchilla or even a ball python wanting to join in and help solve mysteries?

Yes, it was definitely best to be prepared for anything.

Nan came and found me a short while later.“There you are. I’ve been searching for at least a half an hour.”

Funny, because I had left her no more than ten minutes ago. I put the book I’d been thumbing through back on the shelf with its companions and zipped up my coat. “Let’s get home then.”

There wasn’t much to say on the drive back. Nan kept trying to bring things around to her scholarly discussion of Lord Voldemort from the Harry Potter series and even attempted to parallel his rule with that of Mayor Mark Dennison.

Strange, considering how she’d been quick to defend him from the protestors at his inauguration.

Back at home, we found Octo-Cat lying in his usual sunbeam with Paisley nestled up at his side licking the fur on his neck.

Octo-Cat purred loudly and slowly blinked his eyes in contentment. When he noticed us standing there watching them, he jumped up in horror with the same level of absolute shock and disgust he displayed whenever he accidentally found a cucumber laying near him.

What? Sometimes I just couldn’t resist.

“So, you and Paisley, huh?” I asked, making a kissy face and widening my eyes dramatically.

“It’s not what it looks like, Angela, and you know it. The little dog just needed… Oh why do I bother to explain things to you feeble humans? Get out of here, dog!”

Paisley whimpered and scampered away.

“Do you want to hear about our trip to the library?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

He stretched his front paws and then stretched his back legs one at a time. Finally Octo-Cat turned to me.“If you must.”

I quickly caught him up on what little we’d discovered. I hadn’t expected his response to be laughter.

“Oh, you humans, so needy. We cats don’t need anybody telling us what to do. We can figure that out for ourselves, thank you very much. In fact, my fourth cousin twenty-three times removed, Stubbs, actually ruled over humans. They elected him to be mayor of their town for twenty years! He served his first term as a kitten, even. And he did a wonderful job. More cats should be mayors, if you ask me. I mean, you see how much better your life is since I’ve come around to teach you how to live it properly.”

“I’m going upstairs,” I announced, marching away before Octo-Cat could bore me with any more of his strange family connections or Nan with her far-reaching conspiracy theories.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Nan called up after me. “I don’t know why, but for some reason I really find myself craving a nice Scotch egg. To the kitchen!”

We both disappeared in opposite directions. It wasn’t until I reached my tower bedroom that I realized Paisley had trailed me there.

“Mommy,” she said sweetly, wagging her tail and blinking up at me with eyes that always seemed to have tears in them even when she was happy. “I missed you today, Mommy.”

“I missed you, too, sweetie. But it was very nice coming home to see you and Octo-Cat getting along so nicely.”

“Yeah, but then he hurt my feelings,” she whined. “Why does he do that?”

“Oh, sweetie.” If only I knew the answer to that question, I could set up a second business as a cat behaviorist and make millions.

Chapter Twelve

I spent much of that night tossing and turning as I replayed my conversations with the mayor and Nan’s suspicions regarding his motives as a pet owner. Clearly I was missing something big… But what?

That question kept me from entering the deep sleep I so desperately needed.

Octo-Cat quickly grew frustrated with me and went to sleep somewhere else in the house. I missed his warm presence in bed, but it beat listening to him complain about my anxious insomnia.

I’d hoped to sleep in a little the next morning, but Nan would hear of no such thing. As soon as light began peeking from beneath the curtain, she burst in with Paisley yapping at her heels. “Good morning! It’s a great day for a run! Our second run! You’re going to feel terrible,” she said with a sinister smile, “but we have to keep going and then you’ll feel great. No time to waste. Chop, chop!”

I pulled the pillow over my head, not caring if it smothered me. Nothing could be worse than running with Nan on almost no shuteye.

Then Octo-Cat, proving things could always get worse, appeared with a dead rat in his mouth and dropped it directly on me.

I shrieked and pushed the covers, and the rat, to the ground. Paisley quickly zoomed in and took possession of the deceased rodent.

“This is yummy! What a big fat rat.” Her voice came out muffled, but undeniably glad.

“Why would you do that to me first thing in the morning? Why would you do that at all?” I asked Octo-Cat, still shivering with disgust.

“Consider it payment. Not a gift. I need something.”

“I don’t want it as a gift or a payment! I don’t want it at all!” I shuddered again. These little gifts—or payments—of his were made that much worse by the fact I could talk to rats, too.

Octo-Cat never minded making me uncomfortable, though. All that mattered was his own needs.

“You really made me uncomfortable last night, Angela,” he began with a sigh. See?

“With all that tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep, I could scarcely catch any winks myself. That just won’t do. I need my own bedroom. My own bed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t handle this right now. Nan, I don’t feel well. I can’t go for the run. I need to save all my energy for the case.”

She waved away my concern. “Nothing like getting your blood pumping first thing in the morning to wake up that tired brain.”

I groaned. Why couldn’t they leave me alone for just five minutes? Was that so much to ask? Five minutes would help so much.

“I’m guessing there’s no way out of this?”

“Nope,” Nan answered pertly and then tossed a water bottle my way. I didn’t catch it. Instead, it bounced back to the floor.

Paisley had already left the room, rat in mouth, which I desperately hoped I wouldn’t be seeing again. I also would not be letting Paisley lick me until she had a good solid teeth-brushing.

“Let’s go. Hurry up,” Nan said, taking her role as my personal trainer far too seriously.

Octo-Cat jumped on the bed and stared daggers at me through his amber eyes.“Seeing as you accepted my payment, I’ll expect services to be rendered by nightfall. Don’t forget. When you get home, I get my own bedroom and it better be a nice one. This is my house, after all.”

I ignored him as I got ready for what I already knew would be a terribly exhausting day.

Paisley was still off somewhere with my rat payment, making it easy to sneak away without her. Unfortunately, we still had far too much snow for her to be safe and warm outside.

For both of our sakes, I hoped the weather improved soon, but I knew better than to expect that of Blueberry Bay in early February.

Nan drove us to Cujo’s house, then grabbed him from the side yard and clipped on his leash.

“I expect you to do better today.” The disapproving muttsky narrowed his eerie eyes at me. “Yesterday’s performance was unacceptable, but I’m glad you’re here to try again. We’ll make a runner of you yet.”

“I don’t know why it’s so important to you,” I mumbled. “You don’t even know me.”

“Oh, but I know running,” Cujo answered with a chuckle as he kicked his legs back in the snow.

And just like that, we were off.

“So,” Nan said as we rounded the first block. “I still think there’s something fishy going on about that missing golden retriever.”

I knew I wouldn’t be able to run in peace. Even small miracles were denied me as of late, it seemed.

“What’s this now? A missing retriever?” Cujo asked, still running at breakneck speed.

I, for one, felt as though my shoulder might pop clear out of the socket as I tried to maintain my grip on Cujo’s leash and keep pace with both him and Nan.

“Yes,” I panted, already overexerted. “It’s our case.”

“Case?” He asked, his ears twitching and turning with interest.

“I’m a private investigator.”

Gasp.

“Me and my…”

Gasp.

“Cat.”

He snorted. “You can’t give a cat a job. Cat doesn’t care about getting it done. You need a dog. Luckily, I volunteer. You give me a job, and I’ll get it done. That’s what we working breeds do best. So tell me, how can I find this missing golden retriever?”

“What’s he saying?” Nan asked and I remembered that while she couldn’t make out the words, she could hear the barking and guttural noises uttered by Cujo and other animals as we conversed.

“He wants to help find Marco,” I explained, taking several deep gasps for air yet again.

“Perfect!” Nan replied in her normal, unfatigued voice. Here I was about to drop dead and she hadn’t even worked up a sweat.

“We’ll head straight to the mayor’s after we finish our run,” she decided aloud.

“No. Please no. I need to rest,” I begged. “It’s too much all at once. “

“There you go. Disappointing me again,” Cujo remarked with a soft growl. “Yes. You definitely need me on this case. I’m part husky, you know. And part Akita and even part Great Pyrenees. All the great strong breeds combined in one. That makes me the greatest.”

Wow, this dog had quite the ego. As much as he didn’t like cats, he actually reminded me of one.

I hesitated.“I didn’t say you were hired.”

It seemed to me having to look after Cujo would make the investigation more difficult.

“Of course he’s hired!” Nan cried merrily. “Good boy. You tell us how you want your payment, and we’ll make sure to get it to you. Do you like rawhides or bully sticks? What can we give you?”

I translated this to Cujo who sighed and said, “A job well done is payment enough, but it’s nice to be appreciated.”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a disapproving look before continuing.“Catch me up on the case so that I’m ready. I’ll solve this in record time. You’ll see.”

I found it quite difficult to relay the facts while continuing our horrible run—but somehow, just barely, I managed. When we finished forty minutes later, rather than yesterday’s thirty, I crumpled into the snow, content to die right there so I could finally get some rest.

“What are you doing?” Nan asked with a laugh.

Cujo was far less amused. “Get up! Now is not the time to be lazy. We can’t rest until the job is done.”

I made a snow angel, ignoring them both until my heart finally slowed to a steadier beat. Moderately refreshed, I got up and dutifully headed to the car

“Now that wasn’t so bad. Was it?” Nan asked as she ushered Cujo into the tiny back seat. It barely contained his one hundred pounds of fluffy bulk, but he didn’t seem to mind.

I laughed a bitter laugh and closed my eyes, leaning back on the headrest.

The sooner we solved this case, the sooner I could return to trying to get some shuteye. Hopefully by the time we returned home, Octo-Cat would have forgotten all about his demand for a new bedroom.

Then again, when had he ever forgotten about anything? Or at least anything that concerned him?

Chapter Thirteen

Nan, Cujo, and I arrived at the mayor’s house for the second time in two days. I had an uneasy feeling about snooping around, sorely hoping Nan didn’t plan on breaking and entering today as well.

We’d been lucky enough to explain our unexpected presence yesterday, but if Mark caught us today, he would surely figure out that we were investigating him just as much as the disappearance of his dog.

“Is that the mark?” Cujo asked, panting heavily beside me. He’d stuffed his giant slobbery face between the two front seats and over the armrest. Funny that he didn’t get winded at all during the run, but this new excitement of the investigation had his tongue lolling freely from his enormousmaw.

I scanned the horizon just in time to see the mayor pulling away in his luxury sedan.

“I’ll tail him,” Nan said, nudging me in the ribs. “Get out. You can look around here, and I’ll follow him wherever he’s going.”

As tired as I was, I also knew better than to argue. At least I’d be able to move at my own pace now.

But no.

A moment later, I found myself standing in the fresh snowfall with Cujo at my side.“Why didn’t you stay with Nan?” I asked him, not so secretly wishing he had.

“And miss all the action? No thank you. I hate that metal dogsled, anyway. I’m supposed to be pulling, not sitting.” He chuffed and pawed at the snow impatiently.

“Well, c’mon then.” I tromped up the unshoveled drive. I’d have thought the mayor would ensure his home was one of the first on the local snowplow’s route. Then again, it was probably hard for the city to keep up, given the record-breaking snowfall Glendale had seen during the past week.

“What are we looking for?” Cujo asked. “I don’t like standing here wasting time. Not when we have a job to do.”

I’d only stopped for a few seconds, but apparently that was long enough for the hyperactive work hound.“I’m not sure,” I answered, bracing myself for the insults I had no doubt would be coming.

Luckily, whatever he’d been about to say died on Cujo’s lips as a frigid blast of wind crashed into us face-on.

“Ah, that feels good,” he said with a happy sigh, then his entire body stiffened as he took a long, exaggerated whiff of the air.

“I smell something,” he informed me.

“Smell something, like what?”

“Pee.”

Oh, great.“Yeah, um, we were here yesterday for a tour, and the mayor pointed out that Marco always peed on that side of the yard.”

“No, that’s not right.” Cujo barked and turned his head in the opposite direction. “It’s coming from over there!”

He pointed toward the woods, one paw raised midstep.

“Are you sure? Nothing’s back there,” I explained.

“So trusting, you humans. I’d wager a healthy bit of skepticism is just as important to a private investigator as a snow hook is to a musher. At least it should be.”

“Oh…kay,” I said slowly, neither wanting nor knowing how to argue this point with him.

Cujo whined against his leash.“We need to go to the pee. It will tell us everything we need to know.”

Wonderful. Still, at least it was something.

We plodded along much slower than Cujo would have liked until we were deep into the woods. Even though the sun was still high, the tall, aged trees cast shadows over us.

“I’m not so sure about this,” I told him, taking out my phone and noting that my reception was down to one bar. “Nobody knows we’re back here. What if…?”

Cujo interrupted me with a low growl.“No time for what-ifs. We have a case to solve. Have you forgotten already?”

I had two choices.

I could disappoint the very large, very angry-looking dog beside me, or I could take the small risk of heading deeper into the woods.

This time, I chose to go into the unknown, following the tireless muttsky through the trees.

By the time we emerged on the other side, I realized that Cujo’s keen sense of smell had, in fact, led us somewhere new. A small log cabin sat nestled among the trees on the outer edge of the woods. It probably wouldn’t have been visible, if not for the stark white snow that surrounded it. Smoke rose up from the chimney, and a faded trail of footprints led straight to the front door.

It looked like the perfect place to escape the cold and rest for a moment. Oh, how nice that sounded.

“The trail stops here,” Cujo informed me, bounding up to the cabin, then lifting a leg and relieving himself with great satisfaction. “There. No more strange dog’s pee.”

“Is it Marco’s? Do you think?” I asked, unfamiliar with the intricacies of dog pee.

“I’ve never met him, so I can’t say for sure.” Cujo blinked slowly in the sunlight. “But let me see…”

He stuck his snout in the snow.“This dog is male, about five or six years old, slightly overweight and enjoys snap peas as a snack. Not my favorite but…”

“Interesting,” I said, thinking back over the mayor’s tour of his home and our discussion of Marco’s day-to-day routine. “Oh, wait. I remember something. The mayor did say that he used snap peas as snacks for Marco to help get his weight down since the meat ones were making him too fat.”

“Well, then it seems we’ve found our dog,” Cujo answered with a gaping smile. “I told you it was easy when you focused on the task to be done.”

He was right. I wouldn’t have found this place without him, but still we had to face whatever was inside.

I pushed my body flat against the wall and slowly snuck toward the window. A quick peek inside confirmed that the cabin wasn’t sitting empty. A portly golden retriever sat gnawing on a rawhide bone in front of a blazing fire.

“That’s got to be him!” I cried, then covered my mouth with my hands, realizing I may have spoken too loudly to avoid detection. The dog’s ears perked up, but he didn’t move his eyes from the bone. When no one came out to investigate, I realized that Marco must be sitting alone.

“What should we do?” I asked Cujo.

“Go in and rescue him, obviously,” Cujo said with a chuff. “It’s the final part of our mission. You can’t back off now.”

I tried the door, but it was locked.“Any other ideas?” I asked.

“Fall back!” The muttsky jumped to the side, urging me to follow.

Sure enough, in the distance I spotted an approaching figure wearing a Russian fur shapka and thick mittens.

I leapt behind the cabin with Cujo and watched in horror as Mayor Mark Dennison himself finished the trek to the cabin and let himself inside. Could it be?

I carefully, painfully duck-walked to the window and peeked over the ledge. The mayor had settled himself beside his dog and was discussing the case—the one he’d hired us to solve.

I could barely make out his words.

“Well,” the mayor said with a chuckle, “the first few interviews went great. My public approval rating must be soaring now. Not only does everybody remember that I have a great dog.”

He paused to scratch Marco between the ears.“But they also feel genuinely sorry for me. It’s one thing to disagree with my politics, but to take such a nice dog… Who would do such a wicked thing?”

Marco cocked his head to the side and Mark laughed again.

“Yes, it would take someone truly awful.” He continued to laugh as the answer to our predicament finally became crystal clear.

No one had ever threatened Marco. The mayor had taken the dog himself and hidden him back here just long enough to get the public sympathy working in his favor.

So what was I supposed to do now?

Barge in and tell him he’d been found out?

He was the client after all, and the one responsible for paying us when the job was done.

Did a little ill-gotten publicity really hurt anyone?

The dog was clearly fine and happy.

So…

Was it better to walk away or to force a confrontation? Before I could decide, Mark let himself back out through the door and clomped away.

I held my breath, praying hard that he wouldn’t turn around and see me.

Chapter Fourteen

I waited crouched in the snow outside that cabin for at least ten minutes, needing to make sure the mayor had well and truly gone before I headed back through the woods with Cujo.

“What’s next? What’s next? I’m ready for the next part,” he begged, panting happily as he led me across the frigid February landscape.

I had to admit that he made a far more motivational partner than the crabby tabby I usually worked beside.

“That’s a good question,” I told him. “I still haven’t decided. What do you think?”

Honestly I was torn. Should we confront the mayor with what we know? Or would it be better for me to call my news anchor mom so she could break the story and expose this scandal to the public? She’d definitely be happy to have such a juicy story. The network execs would be, too. They might even extend her coverage region over something like this.

Cujo stopped walking and stared up at me with his light blue eyes. “I don’t care what you do. We found the culprit. It’s up to you to navigate the intricacies of human propriety. Not me.”

“Uhh….sure,” I said in defeat. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he yipped.

We walked silently through the woods for a while, neither having anything to say to the other. When we’d almost reached the clearing on the other side, my phone let out a series of high-pitched chirps.

“What was that?” Cujo asked in a panic. “That didn’t sound good.”

“Relax. It’s just my phone.” I pulled it out from where it had been wedged in my pants pocket and saw a missed text and two missed voicemails from Nan.

I listened to the first message. “I don’t know where you are, Angie dear, but take cover. Mark’s headed back your way.”

The next voicemail was much the same. Although it definitely would have been nice to have advance warning, it was probably a good thing my phone hadn’t chimed and given me away while I was spying through the cabin window.

I tried returning Nan’s call to let her know I was okay, but the phone just rang and rang without stop. Meanwhile Cujo and I crept closer to the edge of the forest. I was so ready to get back into the warmth of Nan’s car and hoped she’d be nearby and waiting for us.

“What’s that?” Cujo asked again.

I turned but saw nothing—nothing except a gloved fist flying straight toward my face. It made contact, crunching my nose and forcing me down into the soft snow below.

Cujo growled, sounding more like his namesake than ever.

“Who’s there?” I called, rubbing stars from my eyes, only to be kicked in my side for my efforts. The fresh wave of searing hot pain distracted me from all else.

Cujo lashed out with a snarl, and my attacker screamed in pain. I assumed he had landed his bite. I definitely didn’t envy whoever had been on the other end of those giant teeth.

A large thud sounded nearby, and Cujo yelped in response.

“Get out of here, you stupid dog!” I heard someone yell, still too delirious from pain to determine whether the voice had come from a man or a woman.

And then I was alone with my attacker.

Cujo’s familiar pant receded, leaving me to handle the assailant all on my own.

“Get up, Russo,” he commanded, yanking me to my feet by my hair. A man. Definitely a man, and a strong one, too.

Everything hurt so bad I couldn’t help but cry out. “What do you want? Leave me alone!”

“We already told you what we want, but you couldn’t keep your nose out of our business,” the man told me, but I couldn’t make any sense of it.

“Again,” another voice added. This one seemed to belong to a woman.

“You’re coming with us,” the man said, yanking me again.

Everything looked as if it were under water or part of a mirage. I strained to make out the features of either thug, but one them pushed a soft knit skullcap onto my head and yanked it down over my eyes.

“You move that, you’re dead,” the woman said, and I knew better than to test her on that.

“March,” the man said, pushing me from behind. The woman walked just before me.

We turned around and headed back through the woods toward that lonesome cabin. Was this how I died?

Marching blindly through the cold at the hands of an unknown pair who hated me enough to kidnap me? Not just once, but twice now?

I had no doubt in my mind that this was the same duo that had abducted Mags just a month earlier at the Holiday Spectacular downtown. She said they called her Russo and warned her to keep her nose out of their business, just like these two were doing with me now.

What did they have to do with the mayor and his missing golden retriever, though? I’d already seen that he’d taken the dog himself. That neither of them had ever been in any real danger.

Yet here I was, blindfolded and being marched to an unknown end. My bones rattled from the icy cold. My heart hammered with fear—too bad it wasn’t quite enough to get me warm.

If I ran, I wouldn’t get far—not with these two around and with my vision already so disoriented, whether or not I was blindfolded.

And if I stopped moving, who knew what they would do to punish me?

This left no option but to comply, so back to the cabin we went.

Sometime later they shattered the window, then unlocked the door and shoved me inside. The warmth of the fire immediately put me at ease despite the ongoing danger.

My kidnappers whispered hurriedly between themselves before finally tugging off the cap that had blinded me.

Marco the golden retriever stood nearby, his tail covering his privates as he whined questioningly. “Who are you?” he asked in a friendly yet fearful voice. “Why have you come to my playhouse?”

I wished I could answer him, but I still didn’t know who my attackers were or what they wanted. I had to play it safe. So I addressed them instead, hoping Marco would understand.

“Why are you here? Why am I here? What do you want?” I asked the questions in rapid fire, my jaw throbbing from where I’d been hit, blood gushing from my nose into my mouth. It was probably broken for all I knew. Maybe Mags could teach me a makeup trick or two if I even managed to get out of this alive.

But now I saw clearly that the first of my captors was a woman in her mid-fifties with elegantly coiffed hair and an expensive looking jacket. She seemed familiar, though I couldn’t exactly place her.

The man stood in front of the fire with his back to us, saying nothing as he let his partner make an attempt to answer my questions.

“You already know who we are. Why you’re here has yet to be determined. What we’ll do with you… Huh.” She laughed but didn’t bother finishing her answer.

I swallowed down a nervous lump that had formed in my throat. Were they really crazy enough to kill me? For what? Sure I’d put a few bad guys behind bars in my time as a PI, but—

“What are you thinking, Russo?” the man said, turning toward me suddenly.

Oh. This face I knew very well. His wrinkled skin had been pulled taut from an apparent cosmetic surgery. The white hair and strong jaw, though, looked the same as ever.

“Mr. Thompson?” I asked as all the pieces began clicking into place. Could it really be my former boss, the partner at the law firm now headed by my boyfriend, Charles Longfellow, III?

“The very same,” he said with a hideous smile.

“Why would you do this?” I squinted my eyes and willed myself to see anything but the horrible scene unfolding right before me.“And shouldn’t you be in jail?”

He chuckled again, this time bitterly. “You don’t do a very good job following up on your cases. Do you think they were going to hold me because some lady got hurt by her cats? No. My lawyer got me out of that one with a slap on the wrist and an accidental death decision. Minimal time served. Now I’m back, and I’m not leaving again.“

It still didn’t make sense. “But what do you want? Why come back here? Why follow me?”

“You think we followed you?” the woman asked, shaking her head. “Think again. You just happened to show up.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s new,” Thompson sneered. “You were a lousy paralegal, so it makes sense that now you’re a lousy P.I.”

I wouldn’t just sit here and take this abuse, both physical and mental. My time with Thompson had been served. That wasn’t my job anymore. Now I was my own boss.

As far as I was concerned, he could spend the rest of his life behind bars. It’s what he deserved, and it’s what I would make sure happened.

Just as soon as I figured out how to get away.

Chapter Fifteen

Thompson forced me down into a wheeled desk chair and used a coarse stretch of rope to tie my hands behind me.

Ouch. That hurts,” I complained, which only made Thompson pull harder.

Satisfied with his work, he turned to me again. “Finally you get what’s coming to you,” he hissed.

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, trying hard not to sound as desperate as I felt. “I get why you don’t like me, but what does that have to do with the mayor or his dog?”

Thompson chuckled and shook his head. “Denise,” he addressed the woman who I now assumed to be his wife.“Go find that camera we stashed in the pack, just in case. Looks like it will come in handy, after all.”

“On it,” she replied and shuffled to the other side of the small cabin, passing the golden retriever as she did.

Marco glanced at up at her briefly, then returned immediately to his rawhide. Some help he was going to be.

“We had no idea we’d find you on our way here,” my former boss said. “That was definitely a lucky break. As for the mayor, we didn’t kidnap his stupid dog. But from watching his interviews on the local news, it was very obvious that he’d staged the whole thing himself.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. How had Thompson figured this out before me? And why did it even matter to him?

His eyes bore into me as he studied my expression.“You always did wear your heart right on your sleeve. You know that? I can see those wheels turning from all the way over here. Yes, anyone with half a brain should have been able to figure out what Mark did. He never did do a good job hiding his… shall we say… loose ethics.”

I still didn’t get what he was playing at. “But what does that have to do with you? Why intervene at all?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Denise answered for him, returning with the plastic camera in her hands. “Mark Dennison is a terrible mayor, and he never should have been voted in at all.”

“And let me guess, you should have,” I spat at Thompson.

He sighed. “No. Unfortunately even with my minor record, I’d never be able to hold office now. Denise on the other hand…”

He glanced over my shoulder and smiled as his wife closed the distance between them. They shared a sickeningly sweet victory kiss. Something much too maudlin for kidnapping thieves, if you asked me.

“I’m going to tell everyone what happened when I get out of here,” I promised them both, wishing I could shake my fist to emphasize the point. My hands, however, were still tied uselessly behind my back.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Thompson informed me. He held the camera up and clicked a button. The flash glared bright in my eyes, and a second later, a Polaroid image popped out.

The picture slowly beginning to emerge from the milky film, and just as I had suspected, my nose had definitely been broken. Blood covered the lower half of my face and I looked as if I’d already lost, but I hadn’t given up hope yet.

Somehow I would get out of this.

I had to.

After all, what kind of world did we live in if the good guys didn’t win in the end? And make no bones about it, I was definitely the good guy in this situation.

“Nice photo.” I forced a smirk, hoping to come across as confident. “Got a frame?”

“Quiet,” Denise shouted as she slapped me across the back of the head. “We’re in charge here, not you,” she reminded me.

As if I’d forgotten.

When I turned in search of Thompson, I found him standing by the door, shrugging back into his winter wear. I didn’t know where he was going, but I certainly liked my odds better having only Denise to contend with.

No one said anything as he finished getting ready and then departed with the photo in hand.

Denise came around and hopped onto the desk, crossing her legs at the knee as she eyed me.

“I bet you’re wondering where he went.” She smiled at me, taking her time with this revelation. “Well, that’s the exciting part. The dog may not have been enough to make Dennison resign, but you certainly will be. So thank you for stumbling into our perfect little crime scene here.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked through gritted teeth. “Threaten to kill me if he doesn’t resign?”

“Oh no, that would still leave too many loose ends.” Denise took a deep breath, then lowered her gaze to meet mine. “We are going to threaten to kill you if he doesn’t resign, and then once he resigns, we’ll kill you anyway.”

She paused to let that sink in, and a shiver tore through my body. I could tell she meant business. “So either way I don’t get out of this alive,” I summarized for us both.

“Precisely,” came her unfeeling response. She lowered herself back to the floor and winced in pain.

My eyes traveled down the length of her pants, where I found that the hem on one leg was torn and bloodied.

She caught me looking and raised the pant leg to show me the nasty wound that had marred her milky skin. “That stupid dog of yours. He didn’t have to bite me.”

I was glad he had as I watched her hobble through the cabin in search of something. Maybe it would be enough to give me a fighting chance, if only I could escape my bonds before Mr. Thompson returned.

“This will do nicely,” Denise said with a satisfied huff. I twisted myself around in the wheeled chair to watch as she pulled a bottle of Glenlivet from a glass cabinet. “Very nicely, indeed.”

She brought the bottle and a large shot glass back to the armchair by the fire and took a seat with them clutched in either hand.

“Want some?” she asked with a cruel laugh as she filled her glass and downed the first shot. “Now there’s a painkiller I can get behind,” she said with a happy sigh.

I could use a painkiller too, but more than anything I could use this as an opportunity. If Denise drank enough of her self-professed medicine to hamper her senses, then I would have her injured and drunk while my mind remained sharp ready to fight for my life.

She poured herself another shot, savoring this one with tiny, discerning sips.

“I never hated you that much,” she revealed. “Sure, my husband had always insisted that you were useless even before the senator’s unfortunate end, but I saw you more as clueless rather than incompetent. Not that there’s much difference in the end, I guess.” She shrugged and finished the liquor in her glass.

If I could keep her talking then I could probably keep her drinking. And the surest way to keep any conversation going was to get the other person to talk about herself, of course.

“Must be hard having your husband be tried and convicted of accidental death.”

She shrugged again. “It’s a small charge. But yes, it wasn’t easy to undergo all that public scrutiny while the case was on.”

I nodded. “So that’s why you have to make sure to tie up all your loose ends. So that no one has any reason to question you ever again, especially once you yourself step in to run for office.”

She pointed at me and made a clicking sound. “You’re definitely smarter than my husband claims. I’ll give you that.”

I watched as she poured a third shot, smiling to myself without saying anything in response.

Yes, I was definitely smarter.

But was I smart enough to wiggle my way out of this one alive?

Chapter Sixteen

Denise downed another shot, and then considered her bottle of Scotch with a frown. “Not much left. I guess I should’ve paced myself,” she remarked with a snort.

“How is your pain?” I asked kindly, hoping she wouldn’t question my motives.

My inebriated captor pulled up her pant leg and moved her ankle from side to side. “Can’t even feel it now,” she chuffed. “A good liquor is better than any pill, I’m telling you.”

I decided to take a chance knowing there wasn’t much hope of it paying off. But if it did…

“Now that you’re feeling a bit better, I don’t suppose you’d untie me?” I asked with an innocent smile.

Denise shook her head and slammed the shot glass onto a side table “Untie you? What do you think? I’m stupid? He said to leave you exactly as you are until he comes back.”

“Who’s in charge here?” I pressed. “I don’t see him anywhere. Do you?”

She sucked air in through her teeth. “No can do, and stop trying to trick me. You think that just because I have a couple drinks in me that suddenly…” Her words fell away as a scratching sound by the door caught both of our attention.

There Marco stood, whimpering and dragging his claws along the wooden door frame.

“What is it, boy?” I asked, hope sparking in me anew. “Do you need to go outside?”

Turning back to Denise, I said, “If you just untie me, I can—“

“No way!” she shouted. “I’ll take the stupid dog myself.”

She turned behind her and glanced to either side. “I don’t suppose you saw a leash somewhere around here, did you?”

I shook my head and watched as Denise grew increasingly frustrated with what was quickly proving to be a fruitless search. “You know,” I offered slyly.“The rope on my hands would make a mighty good leash. If you just untie me, I could—“

“No.” She kicked at my chair. “Stop asking to be untied. It’s not going to happen.”

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” I questioned in my last-ditch effort to gain freedom.

“If you have to go to the bathroom,” Denise told me with a cruel chuckle. “You can go right were you’re seated.”

“Gross,” I muttered. I’d already heard enough about pee to last a lifetime, thanks to Cujo’s preferred method of tracking Marco earlier. The last thing I wanted was to sit in a puddle of my own making while waiting to die.

Marco whined again, twirling in a frantic circle as he begged to be let out. “I have to go! I have to go number two!” he barked. “I can’t hold it inside, and I’ll be in such trouble if I go on the carpet here. Please! You’ve got to let me out!”

I glanced toward Denise, knowing she had understood enough to make out the dog’s desperation.

“Fine, you stupid mutt,” she said to the purebred retriever as she grabbed his collar and led him outside sans leash.

I watched through the broken window as Marco sniffed around the yard with Denise following closely behind. It didn’t take long for him to find a place and squat down, forming an inelegant arc with his back.

Denise let go and took a giant step back. This was my chance.

“Marco!” I yelled. “Go get help!”

She didn’t have to know that I could talk to animals to get upset by my latest attempt at escape.

The golden retriever kept his eyes glued on me as he finished going potty. Once finished, he finally spoke his answer. “Why do we need help? We have everything we need at the cabin. It’s a nice place for a little break.”

Denise grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back through the door.

“That was stupid,” she hissed at me. “Try something like that again and I’ll move up your date with destiny.”

“What? Kill me now instead of later?” I shot back with a scoff.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” she spat. “Anyway, this stupid dog’s not going to help you, so give up on that now.”

“What makes you so sure?” I challenged her, raising one eyebrow.

Denise paced over to the mantle and grabbed a bag of Pupperoni. I clearly remembered the Mayor saying that Marco only ate snap peas as a snack, so the Thompsons must’ve brought this along with them.

Marco immediately sat at attention, thumping his tail against the floor. “Ohhh! Meat treat! Meat treats are the best! I haven’t had one for years. Maybe even one-hundred years! Can I have that one? Oh, please, please, please.

He licked his chops as Denise pulled a treat from the bag.

“Do a trick or something,” she told him, clearly not an experienced dog owner.

Still, Marco whined, turned in a circle, waved, sat, laid down, crawled, and then rolled over.

Denise laughed and tossed the treat to him.

He caught it easily and finished the entire thing in one big gulp “Another one?” he asked, repeating the lineup of tricks a second time.

Denise gave him a second treat, then put the bag back on the mantle.

“See?” she told me with a smug expression. “She who controls the treats controls the dog, especially with a fat one like this.”

I was happy for Marco’s sake that he couldn’t understand. Things were bad enough without her insulting his weight.

Denise returned to the overstuffed armchair with Marco following closely at her heels. He panted while staring at her lovingly as she poured another shot from the green bottle, emptying it completely now.

“Shame,” she remarked, swirling the last of the liquid gently in her glass.

Marco gave up waiting and flopped down at her feet with a sigh. I was running out of ideas on what to do here. Unfortunately, if I waited much longer she would start to regain her sobriety, and that would make my escape efforts significantly more difficult.

It was at that moment, I found myself wondering what Octo-Cat would do.

Yes, just like those WWJD bracelets that had been so popular in my childhood. What would Jesus do?

Finding myself faced with death, I chose instead to question the wisdom of my talking cat partner. He wouldn’t take this kind of disrespect lying down.

That was for sure.

What wasn’t for sure is how he would escape the situation if he found himself in my place. My odds of survival would have been much better if he’d accompanied me today instead of Cujo.

And thinking of the Muttsky raised even more questions.

Where had he gone after the attack?

And for that matter, where was Nan? Did she know I was in danger or how to find me?

Cujo was the only one who knew I’d been taken. Would he come back to save the day? Or did he prefer other more running-based jobs instead?

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do to save myself here. I’d try my best, but…

After I’d been stuck in my thoughts for quite some time, a grunting snore from Denise startled me from my frantic internal monologue.

Nice. While I was literally contemplating my death, she was sleeping like a happy, drunken baby.

And did she always snore like a steam engine rushing down the tracks or was her drunkenness to blame?

I watched in silence for a couple minutes just to make sure her sleep was deep, then began fiddling with the rope around my hands. It was tight and even twisting my wrist the smallest degree caused enormous pain.

Still, if it was the only way to escape, I’d need to be brave and weather whatever injuries came from wrestling these ropes. I continued to twist and turn, biting my lip to prevent myself from crying out.

I could do this.

I had to.

And I almost had it, too, when the abrupt sound of the phone ringing brought me to a dead stop.

I thought I’d lost service back in the woods… But no. Thank goodness for small miracles!

Who could be calling now, and would that person prove to be my salvation?

Chapter Seventeen

Unfortunately I’d had it right the first time. My phone was still out of service range. It was Denise’s that had just rung. If I got out of this alive, I’d definitely need to switch carriers.

Denise awakened with a start and fumbled to answer. “Hello?”

She listened for a moment, then said, “Hang on, I can barely hear you. I’m putting you on speaker.”

I thanked my lucky stars for stupid criminals.

“Can you hear me now?” Mr. Thompson’s voice rang out loud and clear.

“Yes, that’s better,” Denise answered with a relieved sigh. “Now what were you saying?”

I pretended that I wasn’t paying attention by focusing my gazing toward the window. Really though, I sat taking in every single word.

“We really got lucky running into Russo like we did,” Thompson said on the other end of the call.“Dennison’s already agreed to resign as long as we let the girl go.”

“We agreed to that?” Denise questioned; her words slurred from drink.

“I made sure not to state those exact terms,” Thompson added with a cruel laugh.

Denise laughed, too, but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes. Was it possible she could be undergoing a change of heart?

I could only hope.

Thompson continued. “He’ll be going on the five o’clock news to tender his resignation live. One last publicity stunt before he goes out with a bang,” he added, placing eerie emphasis on that final word.

Denise squirmed uncomfortably.

“You have the gun, right?” Thompson asked after a brief pause.

“Yes,” she said, quietly pushing herself to her feet. “It’s been right here beside me the whole time.” She began to search the cabin for what I assumed was the weapon in question.

“Good. Keep it on you in case she gets feisty. You never know with that one.” Thompson paused, but his wife didn’t say anything in response as she continued her search.

“I’m going to stay nearby to keep watch,” he informed his partner in crime. “Just in case that fool Dennison tries to contact someone for help. I’ve already threatened to expose his false kidnapping, but he might still be stupid enough to try and double-cross us. Speaking of, keep a close eye on that door. He may try sneaking back tothe cabin to grab the dog, and if he does…”

His words trailed away, and Denise picked up where he’d left off. “If he does, then I’ll welcome him with my gun.”

“Good girl,” Thompson said, irritating me with the way he addressed his wife. They exchanged a quick I love you before saying goodbye.

Once Thompson was off the other end of the line, Denise finished her search at last, extracting the gun from where it had been hiding.

She picked the semi-automatic up and studied it in her hands. “I was hoping things wouldn’t get violent,” she said, not realizing the irony of her words.

Not only had they attacked and physically dragged me here, but they also planned to kill me before the day was through. Not violent, indeed. “

You don’t have to do what he says, you know,” I whispered quietly, hoping to fill this woman with a sense of sisterhood. “Just because he’s the man, that doesn’t make him in charge.”

“Of course he’s in charge,” Denise replied with a firm shake of her head. “It’s always been that way, but I don’t mind.”

“All right,” I acquiesced.

And then a short while later started in on a different tact.“Tell me about your kids,” I suggested.

They had to be around my age. Maybe if I could get her to make that connection, it would warm her to me. Maybe it would save my life.

I’d already decided it was worthless trying to appeal to her husband’s sense of humanity. He’d made it clear that when he came back, I’d be taking the long goodbye.

But Denise…

With Denise, I had hope yet.

She rambled on about her two sons and their many, many great accomplishments.

“The boys are both lawyers, like their dad, although they’d both moved out of state after college,” Denise explained as her eyelids began to lower.

Yes, this was good. If I could just make her a little sleepier, then maybe I’d have a fighting chance.

“Now that you told me about your sons,” I said, keeping my voice at dull and even cadence,“let me tell you about my family. First, there’s Nan…” I went into great detail describing every memory I could think of that concerned my grandmother, listing out every single hobby she’d ever expressed even a passing interest in. I hadn’t even reached my teen years by the time Denise had nodded off again.

Thank you, Nan. It seemed she was with me in spirit even if she wasn’t here physically.

With Denise back asleep, I returned to tugging at my bonds once more. A part of me wished in vain that Denise had left a bit of “painkiller” for me.

As I worked on the rope, I surveyed my surroundings.

Marco dozed happily by the fire. Would waking him up also awaken Denise? Could I convince him to help me even though I didn’t have any reason to trust him the way I trusted my own animals?

I just didn’t know what to expect from the food-motivated pup, especially since he’d been raised by an owner with exceedingly questionable morals.

That left me to my own devices.

Denise had a gun.

There was also an empty bottle, which could be smashed open and used as a weapon. The dog treats on the mantle may be able to help me control the golden retriever.

And then there were the jagged window shards that still lay scattered along the floor.

Could I lean back far enough in my chair to grab one without tipping over and use that to cut the rope that bound me? Yes, that was my best shot. I just had to take it really slow and hope for the best.

Using the tips of my boots, I pushed my way across the cabin floor, struggling on the carpeted parts, until at last I reached the wall. I used one hand to hold tight to the windowsill, praying it would be enough. If I lost my balance and went crashing to the floor in this chair, that would surely wake Denise—and when she realized what I was doing, I’d be done for.

Maybe she’d even call Thompson who would move up their murderous plans. Not good for me at all. Leaning back, I pushed with my toes and strained with my fingers while leaning back as far as I could. I’d have to let go of the windowsill if I wanted to grab a piece of glass. But would I be able to make it?

First, I had to test everything carefully. Could I take it far enough without toppling over?

Oh, I hoped so.

After what felt like an eternity of maneuvering, testing, and trying, I finally decided to make the grab. I took several deep breaths and forced myself to focus on the task at hand.

This was life and death—and I definitely knew which one I preferred.

I closed my eyes and leaned back toward the floor, only opening them again when I felt the tips of my fingers brush the ground. That was when a heavy figure flew through the window and landed right on my chest, pushing me to the floor amidst the broken shards of glass. Fresh cuts opened on my hands and arms, while the sound of the crash sent Denise jumping to her feet.

What had just attacked me?

Had Thompson come back already?

Was this really the end?

Only one way to find out…

Chapter Eighteen

Denise screamed, her face turning white with fear. “Get out! Get out of here!” she cried, running to the edge of the cabin and pressing herself flat against the wall.

“Yeesh. What’s wrong with her?”

I knew that voice. Pringle!

I watched as he hopped down from my chest and onto the floor below. Oh, I’d never been so happy to see that pesky raccoon in all my life.

“What are you doing here?” I sobbed, tears of relief flowing freely down my cheeks. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Enough with the questions,” the raccoon said, tapping his thumb and forefinger together as he thought.

I sat quietly, waiting for him to reveal his master plan, praying desperately that he even had one.

Denise continued to shake and cry, realizing too late that she’d left the gun behind in her desperate need to escape the raccoon.

We both glanced down at the weapon, then our eyes met.

Pringle stood beside me, pushing the shards of glass away with his feet as he slowly cleared a path. He didn’t appear to be in much of a hurry.

“Not to pressure you,” I said softly, “but I kind of need to know what I’m supposed to do here.”

Yes, I was speaking with Pringle right in front of Denise, but right now the only options seemed to be exposing my strange secret or dying an assuredly painful death.

Today, I chose to let my freak flag fly.

“Why are you talking to it?” my captor asked with a ragged shriek. “Get it out of here!”

Pringle drew in a deep breath, his furry shoulders shaking as he attempted to remain calm. “You might want to tell that lady to stop calling me ‘it’,” he warned. “I ain’t no nightmare clown.”

I would’ve laughed, had I not been so terrified. Instead, I simply relayed his message to Denise. “He doesn’t like you calling him it. His name is Pringle and he’s a boy.”

He chittered in annoyance, then corrected me.“I am a man, thank you very much.”

“He’s a man,” I translated, keeping my affect flat.

Denise gawked at the two of us with wide, unblinking eyes. It looked as though she wanted to say something, but only a raspy croak escaped her throat.

“So anyway,” the master bandit continued. “Some giant, hairy dog showed up at the house, all panting and excited and saying you’d been carried off. I knew right then and there that it would be up to me to save the day.”

I nodded my appreciation and would’ve hugged him if I hadn’t still been tied to my seat.

“He led me back through the woods and now here I am. You miss me?” He smiled, showing off his pointy canines.

“More than you’ll ever know,” I told him, not caring if I was gushing. I would never punish him for stepping foot in the house again. Not only that, but I would keep him well fed with Fancy Feast, or Delectable Delights, or whatever he wanted. I wasn’t above groveling, and I would also make sure to pay my debts, no matter how Pringle wanted them paid.

“I’m so glad you came,” I told him. “They’re planning to kill me.”

“Well, that’s a bit extreme,” the raccoon observed, then turned toward Denise, taking several quick steps forward.

She pushed herself against the wall, still immobilized from fear.

“Were you really going to kill my neighbor?” he asked, squinting his eyes at her. “That’s not very nice!”

Not very nice? Since when had Pringle begun to sound like Paisley? Personally, I had lots of words to describe the Thompsons’ plan for me and none of them were anywhere near that mild.

“You think you can untie me?” I couldn’t take the chance that Denise would gather her bearings and make a run for the gun. No, I needed to be able to fight for myself when the time came.

And, already, I knew that it would.

“You’re really impatient, you know that?” Pringle remarked with a nasally twang as he returned to my side, grabbed one of the larger shards of glass, and began to saw at my binds.

“Don’t even give a guy a minute to relax. Do you know how far I had to run to get here? Ungrateful humans…” He let out a huff of air, and as he continued his work, he chattered along, whether to himself or to me, I wasn’t quite sure.

“Anyway, I ran, and I ran. Do you know how deep the snow is out there? And that dog kept talking about pee. Dogs, I tell you. What weird creatures.”

Just then, Marco got up from his napping spot by the armchair. I was surprised the ruckus hadn’t roused him before.

“Oh, great. Here’s another one,” Pringle spat. “I’m up to my elbows in canines!”

“Speaking of, where’s Cujo?” I asked, feeling one of the threads of twine holding me snap.

“Heck if I know,” Pringle answered, continuing his work. “We got close enough for me to smell you for myself. Then the two of us parted ways. He said his job was done, informed me that he’s a good boy and that he was going now. But me? I figured I might as well come and see. So what’s going on, by the way?”

I swallowed back a sigh. I couldn’t appear ungrateful. Not now.

“They kidnapped me and are threatening the mayor so that he’ll resign. Then they’re going to kill me,” I summarized, hating the fact that these words were even coming out of my mouth—let alone that they were true.

“So if the mayor doesn’t give in, they’re gonna off ya?” Pringle asked, tugging on the rope and then resuming his work with the glass shard.

“Actually they plan to kill me either way.”

“Wow. I really do not like this lady. Is it okay if I bite her? Give her a little rabies maybe?”

“Pringle, you do not have rabies,” I chastised him. Talk about spreading negative stereotypes. “But yes, you can bite her.”

“Lovely,” he said, at last delivering the finishing slash to the ropes.

I yanked my hands in front of me and rubbed at my wrists where they’d gone raw.

Free! This felt so good.

Now I just had to… Oh no.

Denise had finally begun to move again, and she was rushing right to the gun. I moved as quick as I could, throwing myself halfway across the room, but I already knew I’d lost.

Chapter Nineteen

I didn’t reach the gun first, but neither did Denise.

Pringle stood on the side table, clutching the gun to his chest as if it were a precious child. Given his size, the simple handgun looked more like a powerful rifle.

“Wheee, look at me! I’m the terminator!” He flipped the semi-automatic around and pointed it toward the fireplace. “I’ll be back, baby! Hasta la pasta!”

My heart thudded behind my ribcage. I didn’t want Denise to have a gun, but it was every bit as dangerous in Pringle’s paws. “Put the gun down,” I pleaded, too afraid to ask him to hand it to me directly.

“What do you meanput it down? I just got it! This is awesome! Seriously, how cool do I look right now?” He squinted one eye shut and brought his furry fingers to the trigger and—

The bullet flew right for the stone fireplace, tore through the flames, and then ricocheted back into the cabin.

“Duck!” I shouted, throwing myself to the floor as the bullet shattered another of the windows and disappeared into the snowy wilderness outside.

Denise gasped for air loudly and repeatedly. If I hadn’t heard the bullet exit through the window, I’d have worried she’d been hit. Instead, she seemed to be having a panic attack.

Unlike my captor, I’d been in dangerous scrapes plenty of times before—never with an armed rodent, but still.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my hands and wrists.

Pringle was staring down the barrel of his gun as if a peek inside would explain how the firing mechanism had just been triggered. If I tried to take it from him, it would probably go off again. I had to talk us out of this one, but first there was something else I needed.

In the rush for the handgun, Denise had forgotten her other asset—a working cell phone. I yanked it off the table and punched in a call to emergency services.

“What are you doing?” Denise cried. “No!”

“What’s your emergency?” the operator on the other end of the line asked, but before I could answer, the gun fired a second time.

Denise screamed, and I spun myself around, expecting to find a dead woman, a dead raccoon, or both.

What I found truly surprised me. The golden retriever had pounced on Pringle, knocking the gun from the raccoon’s furry, little hands. “Guns are for hunting. Not for hurting,” he warned with a growl that bared his teeth.

I’d never seen a retriever look quite so menacing. Apparently it took a lot to send him into attack dog mode—or more precisely a rogue raccoon with a gun.

Marco snarled, the long sandy hair on his back rising at the hackles.

Denise continued to hyperventilate and cry.

Pringle chittered from his place beneath the much larger dog’s paws. “You’re not going to kill me. Are you? Look, I’m one of the good guys. You can tell by my charming smile. See.” He raised his gums and showed his teeth, which the dog took as a threat.

Marco reared back, then lunged for Pringle’s throat.No!

CRASH!

Another furry figure crashed through the window. This time it was Cujo, and he did not look happy.

“So it was your pee I smelled,” he told the golden. “I should have known you were a no-good useless—“

“Quiet!” Marco snapped. “I’m the first dog of Glendale, and I will not be talked to that way!”

“Unhand that raccoon. He’s not a villain. He’s a hero!”

“Then why does he have a gun?”

“It’s true. He was saving me! She’s the one who was going to kill me!” I pointed at Denise, who sat rocking in the corner looking completely unthreatening.

“Her?” Marco whined. “But she gave me treats. Two treats! How can she be bad?”

“Oh, my fellow dog, you have much to learn about humans and their motives,” Cujo said with a shake of his head. “Come. Let’s share a pee outside, and I’ll fill you in.”

The dogs turned to leave, and I made a beeline for the gun. Yes, this time I reached it first. Mostly because no one else had attempted to collect it.

Pringle lay on the floor, too shocked to move. From what I could tell, Marco hadn’t hurt him yet. Still, Pringle had never been outmaneuvered before. His pride was now hurt more than anything else.

I emptied the magazine, dropping the remaining bullets to the floor so no more dangerous mishaps could happen.

“Can I have that back?” Pringle asked, slowly bringing himself to a seated position.

“I’ll buy you a Nerf gun when we get home. Much safer, and then you can use the soft ammo to play target practice with Octo-Cat.” My cat was going to kill me, but at least the Thompsons hadn’t managed to yet.

I ambled toward the door and opened it wide in case the dogs decided to come back inside. No need to force them through the broken glass when there was a perfectly good door on hand.

Although I’d complained about the bitter cold that same morning, now I sucked in the fresh air with a happy sigh. It felt good to be alive.

But we weren’t out of the woods yet. Mr. Thompson could still come back at any time, and…

Speaking of woods, three people ran out from them and into the open field, Nan among them.

I ran outside, crying with relief.

When I flung my arms around her, Paisley yipped,“Mommy! I’m here, too!”

I laughed when I noticed her in the carrier on Nan’s chest and gave her a nice scratch between those giant ears of hers.

The other two people were Officer Bouchard and one of the newer cops I didn’t yet know by name.

Bouchard came over and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.“We heard shots fired. Are you okay?”

I nodded so vigorously, my hair fell into my face.“Yes. Yes. I’m okay. But…” I let my words fall away as I motioned toward the cabin.

Both policemen drew their guns and headed inside.

Nan was quick to follow, dragging me along.

We were slowed by my injuries, but arrived just moments after the officers. Already, they had Denise Thompson in handcuffs and were pulling her onto her feet.

“Are you the one who took my granddaughter?” Nan asked, marching straight up to her.

“Yes, but I—“

Nan came in close, readying a punch, but before she could make contact, Denise cried out in pain.

“Ouch! It hurts so bad!”

Nan turned to me in confusion, which is when I noticed Paisley, a bit of blood lining her muzzle.

“That little rat bit me in the boob!” Denise screamed, motioning toward Paisley with her chin.

Nan and I turned toward one another and broke out laughing.“Good dog!” we both cried in unison.

“Yay, I helped!” Paisley sang as the officers escorted Denise away from the scene.

Chapter Twenty

The doorbell rang, and I rushed to open it. My boyfriend, Charles, stood waiting on the other side.

“I keep telling you to just let yourself in,” I teased him, looping my arms around his neck and accepting a kiss.

“No more almost dying at the hands of former partners at my law firm,” he chastised me.

I stuck out my tongue playfully.“Fine, I’ll stay away from the partners and stick to associates.”

“Not funny.”

Hmm, I thought it was.

The great cabin affair had started and finished just two days ago. Both Thompsons were in jail awaiting their bail hearing, while Mark Dennison had been forced to resign despite his best laid plans.

Me? I’d slept for a solid twenty-four hours straight despite Octo-Cat’s constant mewling outside my door. That guy had no patience. I’d almost died, and yet that wasn’t a good enough excuse for him.

That brought us to today. Nan and I had invited Charles and my parents over for a special celebratory feast, and—boy—did we have a lot to celebrate.

Not only had I solved what would have been my first paying case, if the client hadn’t been arrested as a result of my investigation, but we also had a room-warming for Octo-Cat and a hero’s party for Pringle.

The tabby had claimed the room beside my library. Due to my“lengthy frolic through the woods” as he liked to call my near-death encounter, he’d had plenty of time to plan the decorations, based on a combination of old sitcoms he liked and a mobile game called Matchington Mansion.

“Make sure my three pillows don’t match,” he’d warned seriously. “Otherwise, they’ll disappear, and we don’t want that happening.”

Even though I questioned his grip on reality, I did as he instructed, even though installing a one-hundred- and forty-gallon tropical fish tank in the upstairs bedroom had proven both exhausting and expensive.

It was now his prized possession, though, and he spent long-hours fantasizing about devouring his scaly new pets. He was definitely lucky that I was a better pet owner than him.

“Are we all here?” Nan asked, emerging from the kitchen in her favorite apron.

The doorbell rang again, and my parents pushed their way inside. As soon as she saw me, my mom grabbed my head and peppered kisses all over my face.

“Oh, my baby!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not a baby,” I grumbled in a futile attempt to extricate myself from her embrace.

“Ahh, but you’ll always be our baby,” Dad said with a chuckle.

Charles placed a protective arm around me, knowing I’d blow a gasket if my parents didn’t cool it on the smothering and give me some space.

“To the table!” my grandmother shouted. She’d already laid out our best china, insisting that she preferred I rest rather than try to help.

Now she scuttled into the kitchen and returned with a tray of personal-sized potpies. My mouth watered in anticipation.

“No one takes a bite until our guest of honor arrives,” she warned, shaking a finger at my father.

“Say no more, I have arrived,” Octo-Cat declared, hopping onto the table beside me.

“She means Pringle,” I whispered. Everyone here knew my secret, but it still felt a bit odd to converse so openly with the animals.

“Pringle? What’s so special about that guy?”

“Um, he saved my life,” I answered with a shrug.

My cat snorted and licked at the pie on my plate.

“Gross!” I cried.

“Don’t worry, I’ve made pies for him and Paisley, too. We’ll just swap yours for his. But it means he’ll be getting the chicken, and you’ll have the shrimp.”

“Ha!” I cried in delight. Personally, I’d probably rather have the chicken, but knowing that Octo-Cat’s bad attitude had cost him his favorite food gave me endless joy.

The electronic pet door zinged in the other room, and in walked Pringle, wearing his new chipped collar. Now he could come and go whenever he pleased; no invite required.

I knew I’d regret that soon enough, but—hey—I owed him my life.

Everyone cheered and clapped while the critter basked in the attention.

“This is all great. Very great,” he informed me. “But can they maybe sing a song of my greatness?”

“Like ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’?” I suggested.

He considered this for a moment.“That will do for now, but I’d really prefer a custom ballad.”

We all sang as instructed, then enjoyed Nan’s delicious meal. When we’d finished, I rushed to the coat closet and pulled out a present I’d wrapped carefully in custom wrapping paper pattered with the Pringles chips logo.

“Awww, you shouldn’t have!” the raccoon guest of honor exclaimed. “But I’m so very glad you did!”

He tore through the wrapping paper in short order, then bit into the box, and…

“My very own gun! Yes!” he cried.

“Not so fast,” I exclaimed. “Do you remember what we talked about?”

He cast his eyes down in shame.“Guns are dangerous, and I’m not the terminator.”

“Yes, and?”

“And?”

“Read the label on the box. This is a Nerf gun. Do you remember what I told you about Nerf guns?”

A smile crept across his face as realization dawned in his beady black eyes.“Roger that,” he said, loading a foam dart into the gun with far more skill than he’d handled the semi-automatic at the cabin.

Biting his tongue and squinting one eye, he aimed and—

“Ahh! I am wounded!” Octo-Cat cried as he fell from his spot on the table.

I gave Pringle a high five. I couldn’t wait to tell Cujo about this when I saw him on our next run.

Although it hadn’t quite gone as planned, I’d never forget our first paying case. Not in a million years.

11. LAWLESS LITTER

Chapter One

Hi, my name’s Angie Russo. I used to be a paralegal, but now I’m a full-time private investigator… well, at least in theory.

We only get about one case per month, and they only sometimes pay. Luckily, my cat came with a very generous trust fund from his previous owner, which solves at least one major problem.

Oh, also, my cat talks.

Not to everyone, though.

Just me.

Considering his constant stream of criticism and unwanted life advice, I’m sure he wouldn’t have the time to talk to anyone else even if he were able.

Did I mention he’s my partner?

No, not like that. He’s mybusiness partner.

My romantic partner is a handsome, brainy, sweet, and considerate attorney by the name of Charles Longfellow, III. And while I may call him“sweetie,” my cat calls him “UpChuck.”

I’ll probably have to cave soon and make a deal with Mr. Kitty to get him to stop that. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I don’t want anything to ruin it for us.

Besides, Octo-Cat should be busy with his own date that night. He and his long-distance girlfriend, former show cat Grizabella, are as in love as any two cats could be. I should know, because he’s constantly lording it over in front of me, saying how much better his relationship is than mine.

Cats, am I right?

Well, I also have a dog—a little rescue Chihuahua named Paisley. She technically belongs to my nan, but we all live together.

Paisley is sweet like a double scoop of double fudge ice cream covered in sprinkles and chocolate sauce. Sometimes she’s too optimistic about people’s intentions, which means she’s not exactly the best crime-solving partner.

Nan, on the other hand, uses all her varied life experience to solve our cases in the most unusual way possible. As a former Broadway actress, she’s all about costumes, accents, and general over-the-topness.

Boy, do I love her for it.

Speaking of love, I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with the raccoon who lives in my back yard. His name is Pringle and he has zero boundaries. Not too long ago, he uncovered a long-buried family secret by snooping around the attic—we still haven’t fully resolved that one—but he also kind of saved my life a couple weeks ago. I guess that makes us even.

As a thank-you, I now allow him to come into the house whenever he pleases. And he“pleases” quite often. Our grocery bill has risen precipitously. Meanwhile, Pringle is beginning to resemble a literal fuzz ball with all the junk food he puts away on a daily basis.

Sometimes I wish I’d never had that near-death experience that left me with my ability to talk to animals, but then I remember all the amazing things I’ve gained in life since then. Don’t tell him, but the greatest of those things is my friendship with Octo-Cat.

Sure, he only sometimes shows me affection, but when he does it’s enough to keep a smile on my face all day.

That brings us to today.

It’s been T-minus six days since my cat deigned to let me pet him. My parents have been on a glamorous Alaskan cruise for the past three days, and I have had no cases since investigating the mayor’s missing golden retriever last month.

All this downtime has got me wondering whether I should take up a hobby while I wait for the next big case to land in my lap. I have tried advertising, but that’s mostly been a bust. So what else can I really do?

Ugh.

Maybe I should go back to school and finally work toward a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice or something.

I have seven associate degrees, because I’ve always loved learning too much to commit to any one field for four whole years. But now that I’m a PI, I can’t picture any other life for me. Would a degree help bolster the confidence of potential clients?

Or maybe someday I could officially join the police force and work as a salaried detective? Would they let me forgo a human partner in favor of my cat?

Hmm. If not, that might be a deal-breaker.

So many options, but none of them are just right.

I’m pretty sure I know what I need to do, and it’s the one thing I’ve been trying so desperately to avoid ever since I got started.

My boyfriend Charles is the senior partner at his law firm and has offered on more than one occasion to hire me through the firm to help with cases. Sure, Charles was a good boss while I worked for him as a paralegal—in fact, that’s how we first met and became friends.

But our relationship has evolved so much since then, and I’m worried it might hurt the good thing we have going together. Also, returning to the law firm feels like a giant step back even if my job title would change.

I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I just don’t know what to do.

Maybe the cat would be willing to decide for me…

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Octo-Cat regarded me with a piteous look. He flicked his tail and knocked a bottle of painkillers from the nightstand on which he was perched.“See, this right here.This is why you need me.”

I’d planned to do a little reading before tucking in for the night, but the two of us had gotten to talking about my conundrum and—as expected—the tabby had no shortage of opinions.

“Think about it,” he continued, swinging the tip of his tail like a metronome. “Everything you have is because of me. House. Job. Boyfriend. Need I go on?”

I swallowed down my comeback. Sad to say, he was right. I hated that he was right.

“So what should I do?” I asked with wide eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He narrowed his eyes at me, then groaned. “Oh, right. Forgot who I was talking to for a moment there.”

I resisted the urge to pick him up and carry him out into the hall so that I could shut the door between us and finally get some peace.

Octo-Cat, however, continued his lecture unaware of just how painfully it was being received.“You should take the work from UpChuck.Duh.”

“Don’t call him that,” I mumbled.

He rolled his large amber eyes.“You need more experience and references, and he’s offering to help you get those. It’s not justyou you have to think about here.”

I bit my thumbnail and sighed.“Okay,” I said simply. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow then.”

My tabby seemed pleased with this conclusion.“Now are there any other parts of your life that you need me to fix for you tonight, or can I go about my nightly duties?”

“What nightly duties?” This was the first I’d heard of them, and while Octo-Catdid help solve cases, he did precious little else with his days. Could the nights really be all that different?

“Oh, you know. Keeping my favorite spot on the couch warm. Walking over all the counters and tables to make sure they’re still sturdy. Protecting the house from ghosts. Watching the—”

“Wait. Go back a second there. Ghosts?”

He glared at me as if I should have known better than to interrupt his soliloquy.“Yes. Didn’t you know? Only cats can see them.”

I studied him for a second in an attempt to figure out whether he was being serious, but he just stared at me blankly, giving absolutely nothing away.

“Are ghosts reallyreal?” I squeaked. I knew I had something of a magical ability, but I had a hard time believing that those fairytale supernatural creatures walked among us.

My cat yawned, and his smelly tuna breath hit me full-on in the face.“Guess you’ll never know,” he said flippantly before jumping off the side table and trotting out of the room.

Ghosts?Huh.

Something told me I might not sleep so well that night.

Chapter Two

Saturday had arrived, and I was looking forward to sleeping in and waking up extra refreshed.

Nan, however, had other plans. She breezed into my room bright and early, carrying a coffee mug so full I had to wonder how she kept from spilling.“Rise and shine!” she sang, beaming at me from her spot next to my bed.

I wiped the sleep from my eyes and pulled myself into a sitting position. The wooden spindles of my old-fashioned headboard dug into my back, offering me a rather rude awakening, indeed.

Nan pressed the coffee mug into my hands. Some of the hot liquid escaped, sloshing over the side of the cup and onto my comforter.

That was when Paisley arrived.“Good morning, Mommy!” she barked before belting out a spirited rendition of some happy little nursery rhyme about a doggie in a window.

It was all way too much noise first thing in the morning, and I’d never been a morning person to begin with.

“What do you want?” I snapped, perhaps a bit too unkindly.

Nan narrowed her eyes at me.“Don’t sass me, dear. I’m headed out for my new booty boot camp class in a few minutes.”

“Thanks for asking, but I’m not interested,” I groaned, attempting to take a sip of the coffee but spilling again.

My grandmother shook her head.“Good. Because I didn’t invite you. I was lucky to get the one spot I did. This class usually has a six-month waitlist, but they somehow managed to squeeze me in at the last minute.”

“Then what do you need?” I asked from behind the steaming mug.

She raised both arms and motioned toward me.“To give you that.”

I eyed my coffee and nodded my thanks. Nan always brewed it for me, given my well-documented fear of coffee makers. It may seem silly, but I’d just never been able to look at them the same after my near-death experience last year. Of course I’d tried other forms of caffeine, but none sated my addiction quite like a good old-fashioned cup of joe.

“Have fun at class,” I said sweetly, feeling guilty now for having snapped earlier.

Nan lifted her arms in front of her at shoulder height, then did a quick dip and squat.“I won’t,” she said with a grin. “That’s the point. Beauty through pain.”

“You’re already beautiful, Nan,” I muttered. Even though I’d taken up jogging with Nan a few days a week, she was still in far better shape than me—and, wrinkled or not, her body showed it.

She turned and shook her bottom, which was clad in pink velour sweatpants.“I’m looking to tighten and tone. If Grant ever gets around to officially asking me out, I want to be ready.”

I shuddered at the thought. While I was happy that my grandmother had found a close friend in Mr. Grant Gable, I definitely didn’t want to think about how said friendship might involve her needing a tight and toned bottom.

“Well, I’m off!” Nan trilled, heading back out my bedroom door with Paisley yapping at her heels.

I sat sipping my coffee and thinking about what I wanted to accomplish with my day. Saturdays used to be my favorite, but now that I was self-employed every day was both a work day and a vacation—not a good vacation, but rather the kind that happened when I didn’t have enough to keep me busy on the job.

Sigh.

“Morning, shrimpy.” Octo-Cat appeared in the doorway seeming rather pleased with himself.

I raised one quizzical brow.“Why shrimpy?”

“Why not? Humans call each other sweetie, sugar, and honey, so I figured I’d try calling you after a foodI like.”

Given that my cat loved shrimp to an inhuman degree, I was very touched—and also glad that no one else could hear him calling me this strange new nickname.

A smile spread between his whiskers as Octo-Cat luxuriated in a long sunbeam that had stretched lazily across the bedroom floor. He looked really happy.

…too happy.

“May I help you with something?” I asked, suddenly very suspicious.

He did a crazy-looking cat yoga pose and then jumped up onto the bed beside me.“I thought you’d never ask.”

Uh-oh.

“Since we don’t have any active cases right now, I figured this would be a good time for you to drive me to Grizabella’s for a visit.”

I almost choked in shock.“But she lives in Colorado. That’s a really long car ride. And besides, how would I explain such a trip to her owner?”

“Christine isnot her owner,” my cat said emphatically. “We both know the cat’s always the one in charge.”

“Fair point.”

Octo-Cat shook his head in disappointment, then whipped his face back toward me. A sneaky smile stretched from furry cheek to furry cheek.“As for Christine, I’m sure you’ll think of something during the long drive over.”

His piece said, the tabby lifted his tail high, then turned to leave.

“Wait,” I called before he’d made his exit.

Octo-Cat peeked back over his shoulder.“Yes?”

“I don’t think we can manage a trip to see Grizabella right now.”

“Why not? It’s not like you have any work to do.”

He had me there.“I just don’t think—”

“No, it has nothing to do with thinking. The truth isyou don’t want to, but next Friday is Valentine’s Day and I haven’t seen my gorgeous Grizz since Thanksgiving week.”

I sat higher in bed, hoping the change in posture might render me more convincing in my deceit. I supported Octo-Cat’s relationship and wanted him to be happy, but this request was simply ridiculous.

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day!” I practically shouted. “I already have plans with Charles.”

“No, you don’t.”

“How do you know I don’t?”

He heaved a giant breath.“When you’re sleeping, Pringle goes through your phone and reads everything to me.”

My heart dropped right into my stomach.“WHAT?! What’severything?”

He smirked.“You know, texts, emails, status updates, the works. And neither you nor UpChuck has mentioned any Valentine’s Day plans.”

I was stuck, stuck, so hopelessly stuck… but also very angry now. “You can’t just look at my private stuff!”

Octo-Cat chuckled.“You’re my human. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.”

And with that he left.

I took another sip from my mug, but by now the coffee had grown cold. As much as I loved my bossy, overbearing feline, I just couldn’t rationalize an impromptu cross-country trip, especially when his girlfriend’s human had no idea I could talk to cats.

I needed to find a way out of this.

And I probably needed to change the passcode on my phone, too

Chapter Three

As much as I’d have liked to go back to sleep, the fresh coffee stains covering a good portion of my comforter made that inadvisable. Besides, I didn’t need to lend any credence to Octo-Cat’s argument that I should take him to see his Internet girlfriend all the way over in Colorado. He already claimed Idid nothing with my days, and sleeping through this one would prove that theory of his.

Hmm.

Maybe I could trick him with a made-up case to keep us both busy until he found a new idea to obsess over. Then again, he wasn’t the easiest cat in the world to fool. I could find a legitimate case before next Friday. Couldn’t I?

Already at a loss, I padded my way down to the second floor. Once there, I found Octo-Cat in his new bedroom, sitting right on top of the giant 140-gallon aquarium I’d recently caved and bought him.

Outfitted with richly colored silks and a baroque decorating scheme, my cat’s room was nicer than mine. It also kind of resembled an eighteenth-century Parisian brothel—or at least what I assumed one might look like.

An accurate comparison or not, I felt immensely out of place whenever I entered, which meant I mostly gave Octo-Cat his privacy. Not that he ever returned the favor.

Still, someone needed to feed his fish—and it was better if that someone didn’t find herself tempted to eat them every time the lid to their tank was opened.

“I’ve told you I can handle it,” my cat groused when I grabbed the canister of food flakes and twisted off the top.

I shrugged off his argument.“Yeah. I’m not in the habit of inviting disaster into my home.”

“My home,” he corrected with an irritated sniff. “And what are you talking about?Disaster is basically your middle name.”

“Maybe. But I doubt your fish would appreciate you sticking your paws into the tank and batting at them with those sharp little claws of yours.”

Octo-Cat jumped off the tank and raised a paw to his chest.“Who are you callinglittle? I am deeply offended, and so are they. My fish have names, and I’ll thank you to use them.”

Even though I regularly talked to pets and forest animals, I’d never once heard Octo-Cat’s fish utter anything other than “blub, blub.” Was he simply pulling my leg about this? Then again, if other animals could talk, why wouldn’t fish be able to as well?

Still pondering this, I sprinkled the food into their tank and quickly closed the lid to avoid any kitty shenanigans.

When Octo-Cat jumped back on top to watch them through the tiny opening for the water filter in the back, I decided to ask for a little clarification on the matter.“What are they?”

“They’re fish, genius.”

I met his eyeroll with one of my own.“Of course, they’re fish. But you mentioned they have names. Right? So, tell me, what are they?”

He hopped back onto the floor and sat at my side, his eyes trailing the largest fish as it swam idly about the tank.“See, that big orange one? That’s Tasty.”

“Uh-huh. What about the striped one?”

He smiled and shifted his gaze to the aforementioned fish.“That’s Delicious.”

I was beginning to see a pattern here but continued to listen until all the fish had been named—among them were Yummy, Scrumptious, and Appi-teaser. My guess was he’d seen a few too many commercials for a certain restaurant chain leading to the made-up name of that last one.

I didn’t point this out, though.

Instead I shook my head and said,“I’m not letting you eat your fish. They’re supposed to be your pets.”

“Angela,” he said, aghast. “Who says I want to eat them?”

“You—” I began but was cut off by the merry chime of the doorbell. I didn’t recognize the tune since Nan had recently changed it. It definitely had an upbeat doo-wop vibe about it, but I wasn’t particularly fluent in that era of music.

“We’ll finish this later,” I promised the tabby before racing down the stairs.

Upon pulling the door open, I found my other half, Charles, waiting on the front porch with a giant grin on his face. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss.

“Gag. Get a room,” Octo-Cat spat as he finished descending the stairs.

I chuckled as Charles and I finished our greeting.

“Great idea. We’ll use yours,” I told the mean kitty.

Charles bunched his eyebrows in confusion.“Use mywhat? Oh, right. You were talking to the cat, weren’t you?”

“Sorry. He’s just being bratty, but I’m focused on you now.” I flushed and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. Sometimes I forgot that others could only hear one side of my animal conversations. “What’s with the early-morning surprise?”

“I thought we could spend the day together, if that’s all right with you.”

“That’s perfect with me.” I gave him another long, lingering kiss.

Octo-Cat walked by, then stopped and pretended to retch—except that partway through his performance, his faked motions led to a very real need to empty his stomach.

“Gross!” I cried when the puddle of puke landed just a few inches from my left foot.

“You’re telling me,” Octo-Cat responded before trotting into the kitchen and leaving me to clean his mess.

“Well, that’s romantic,” Charles quipped with a goofy laugh.

“Isn’t it just?” I carefully turned away and grabbed the cleaning spray and a roll of paper towels from our coat closet.

“It’s okay if today’s not perfect,” Charles assured me, accepting the dirty bunch of used paper towels from me. “Today’s just Saturday. It’s next Friday that’s important.”

“What do you—?” I stopped when I noticed Charles’s face had crumpled into a frown. “Valentine’s Day, yes. I’m really excited.”

I wasn’t a doting romantic, but I loved that Charles was.

“This will be our first one together, and I want to make sure it’s special.” He sprinted toward the kitchen to dump the soiled towels into the trash.

“Okay. What should we do?” I asked with an innocent smile as he jogged back.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it all planned out.”

“Great. Tell me about it.”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” Something flashed in his eyes that made my stomach fill with butterflies, both because I loved Charles and because I had a tendency to fear the unknown.

“Just so long as you’re not planning to propose,” I joked before I could stop myself.

Charles’s face fell again. This time my heart sped to a million beats per minute—or somewhere thereabouts.

“Oh,” I said when nothing better came to mind.

My boyfriend reached his hand up to cup the back of his neck and averted his gaze toward the floor.“Um, I was going to wait until the big day, but…” His words trailed off as he sunk to the floor, took a knee, and then looked back up at me with bright, hopeful eyes.

“Charles, I…” Iwhat? What could I possibly say to this?

I loved him. I’d committed to him. But I didn’t want to get married just yet. Not until I had my life and business in better working order.

He licked his lips, took my hand in his, and then burst out laughing.“Just kidding!”

Octo-Cat guffawed with laughter as he passed by yet again.“Ha! Maybe UpChuck’s not so bad, after all,” he muttered to himself.

And as much as I hated that cat’s snarky comments about my boyfriend, I hated the idea of them teaming up against me even more.

Luckily, Charles had no idea what Octo-Cat had just said.

I wouldn’t be telling him, either.

Chapter Four

Charles brewed a fresh pot of coffee for us while I warmed Nan’s latest batch of homemade muffins in the microwave.

“Do you really have the full day free?” I asked again in disbelief.

“Not free,” he corrected, pulling his favorite butterscotch-flavored creamer from the fridge and sending a wide grin my way. “I’m spending it with you.”

“It’s just you don’t usually get a half day off, let alone a full one.”

“Well, I’m making some changes at the firm to help me focus on what’s most important.”

“There’s a lot to be said for work-life balance. I kind of have the opposite problem. Too much life and not enough work.”

“Hmm. Then maybe we should meet in the middle.” He winked suggestively, making me blush all over again.

“Excuse me,” Octo-Cat bellowed as he joined us in the kitchen and stared down into his half-empty water dish.

I turned to face him.“Yes, your royal highness?”

“Oh, I like that,” the tabby drawled as he twitched his tail in thought. “It’s about time you referred to me properly.”

“I didn’t mean…” I began, then stopped myself. If I wanted to actually spend the day with Charles, I’d need to avoid unnecessary arguments with Octo-Cat in the meantime.

“What is it?” I asked amicably. The sooner I could satisfy his demands, the sooner I’d have some much-needed quality time with Charles—some much needed anduninterrupted quality time.

“I need you to bring my iPad into the mid-morning sunspot. I have a call planned with Grizabella, and I can’t be late.”

“Okay, give me a second,” I said over the beeping of the microwave.

“I don’t need it a second from now. I need it now.” Octo-Cat stomped one of his front feet and glared at me with those strangely glowing eyes of his. “I’m going to tell her about our visit next week. I can’t wait to see the look on that beautiful face of hers when she finds out—”

“No,”I interrupted, perhaps a bit too emphatically.

My cat’s head shot back as though he’d been slapped. “What do you meanno?”

Apparently I didn’t say this word enough, given that Octo-Cat seemed to have forgotten what it meant or that it was ever a possible answer to something he wanted.Uh-oh. I needed to think fast before he could either outwit or guilt-trip me into doing his bidding.

“I, um… I was just talking with Charles, and you were right. He does have work for us at the firm. We can’t leave town, because we need to get started bright and early Monday morning.”

He lifted his tail and bent it to resemble a question mark.“Is that so?”

I jabbed Charles in the ribs, and he nodded despite not knowing what was going on.

“Hmm, I guess that’s good,” Octo-Cat conceded a moment later. “I’ve always thought St. Patrick’s Day was far more romantic, anyway. Green is a much nicer color than pink or red, and who doesn’t like pots of gold?”

I laughed nervously.“Yeah. Good point.”

He nodded and glanced toward the living room.“You can have the inferior romantic holiday then. Now about that thing I needed.”

Even if I hadn’t claimed an outright victory, at least I’d managed to delay the problematic road trip for another month. That was pretty good for a morning’s work. “Right. I’ll go get your iPad for you.”

“What was that all about?” Charles asked after I’d returned.

“Shhh,” I hissed.“He can still hear you.”

Charles leaned in close and pressed his lips to my ear.“You’re cute when you’re arguing with your cat. You know that?”

My knees turned to Jell-O as he traced kisses down my neck.“Stop that, you.”

Charles chuckled as he pulled away.

While he finished fixing our coffee, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and typed out a text.

Charles’s pocket buzzed a moment later. “What the—? It’s from you?”

I widened my eyes and motioned toward his pocket. Yes, it was silly to text when we were standing in the same room, but I didn’t want to risk Octo-Cat overhearing what I needed to say.

My boyfriend’s eyes trailed down the screen and his lips moved as he read.

I need you to assign a case for us. Even if it’s fake, just something to keep us busy. Otherwise he’s going to force me to drive him out to Colorado.

He snorted and typed back,What’s wrong with Colorado?

I’ll miss V-Day.

Can’t have that, he typed, then jammed his phone back into his back pocket and wrapped me in his arms.

“Thank you,” I whispered against his shoulder.

That was when a projectile thumped into the back of my head.

I spun on my heels, not at all surprised to see Pringle the raccoon standing nearby, his Nerf gun still pointed straight at me.

“You’re not supposed to use that on me,” I reminded him with a groan.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention away from lover boy?” The masked nuisance crossed his arms but continued to shoot darts at me with those dark, beady eyes of his.

“What do you need?” And why were my animals constantly inserting themselves into my love life? I hardly got any time with Charles as it was. The last thing I needed was to play human servant to the furry creatures all day. Paisley, at least, was busy with Nan, but that didn’t help me with theones who were still here.

Pringle widened his eyes and tsked.“Watch the attitude, toots. I come in peace.”

“That’s a fine thing to say when you literally just shot me.”

Pringle chittered happily.“Yeah, that was pretty good. Wasn’t it?”

I tapped my foot, refusing to say anything more until he just came out with whatever it was he needed. The sooner he told me, the sooner he could be on his way.

The raccoon dropped to all fours and raced back through the living room.“I have something important to show you. C’mon!” he cried. “Follow me!”

“What does he want?” Charles asked with one suspicious eyebrow raised.

“No idea. Let’s go up to my bedroom and lock the door.”

He raised the other eyebrow.“Not that I don’t like how you think, but we should probably find out what has him so worked up.”

I grabbed the plate of muffins and one of the coffee mugs.“Not interested. Now let’s go.”

Unfortunately, Pringle intercepted me just as I reached the stairs.“And just where do you think you’re going?” he demanded before shooting a foam dart into each of my kneecaps.

“Ouch! Stop it!”

He shot another dart at my face.“I’ll stop when you come out to the porch with me.”

“What’s on the porch?” I asked with a sigh.

He landed a shot near my bellybutton.

I growled in frustration.“You want me to go the porch? Then give me that gun. You’ve lost Nerf privileges for the rest of the year as far as I’m concerned.”

Pringle bared his teeth and hissed, reminding me that no matter how well he spoke, he was still very much a wild animal.“Touch Carla and you’ll deserve what happens to you next.”

“Enough with the theatrics.” Charles pushed past us and flung open the door.

“See!” the raccoon shouted in indignation as our eyes fell upon the bloody scene waiting on the front porch. He bolted past us and leaped off the porch.

“It’s your problem now!” he called as he disappeared around the side of the house.

And, yes, a problem it most definitely was.

Chapter Five

“Mamamamamamamama!” one of the babies cried when we stepped out onto the porch. Her feet were covered in blood, but she didn’t seem to be in pain.

Her brothers and sisters clambered over her in an attempt to break free of the battered cardboard box they’d been crammed into.

“Are those…?” Charles let his voice trail off.

I nodded to confirm.“An abandoned litter of kittens.”

Octo-Cat marched past us both.“What’s all this noise? I’m trying to speak with Grizabella and—”

A chorus of excited mews rose up to interrupt him.“Daddy!”

I glanced toward Octo-Cat in just enough time to see his already large eyes grow wide in horror.

He coughed and took a fearful step back.“No, it can’t be. The vet stole my cathood at least…”

He lifted a paw and extracted his claws, counting until he was satisfied with the conclusion.“At least four years ago. These… Thesethings can’t be mine.”

“Daddy!” the kittens chorused again.

“It’s impossible,” Octo-Cat insisted, stepping forward to sniff at the box. “And besides, they look nothing like me.”

They, in fact, looked very much like him with the same golden eyes and the same brown tabby coats. The only difference was that their fur was already longer than his. Based on my limited experience as a crazy cat lady, I guessed that this was a litter of Maine Coons. Fitting, given that we lived in Maine and that Octo-Cat liked to claim this particular breed as part of his proud heritage.

The kittens rushed to one side of the box in an effort to get close to the grown-up feline, and in so doing, knocked the box over. Free at last, they rushed up to my cat and began to rub affectionately against him.

“Oh, great! Now they got this red sticky stuff all over me, too,” he moaned but surprisingly made no move to back away.

Pringle reappeared then. Once on the porch, he started scooping up kittens and tucking them into his armpits.“How much do you think these guys are worth on the web market?”

“No,” I shouted. “Both of you stop! Nobody’s accusing you of being their father,” I informed my tedious tabby. “And we are not selling them on the Internet,” I growled at the handsy raccoon.

Charles placed an arm around my waist and pulled me to his side.“What are we going to do?”

“Let’s start by bringing them inside and getting them cleaned up,” I decided aloud. At this point, I was feeling quite thankful that Nan was out and about. If she’d been here to discover the kittens with us, I had no doubt in my mind that all five would become permanent residents of our home—and that Octo-Cat would make me suffer for it.

Charles helped me wrestle the babies back into the box, then picked it up and carried them toward the biggest of our bathrooms, the one with the claw-footed tub.

Both Octo-Cat and Pringle followed along.

Pringle no longer had his Nerf gun, so that at least offered a small measure of relief.“I’m telling you,” he said in a raspy whisper. “We should be able to get at least $100 each, and with there being five kittens in all, that’s like a thousand dollars.”

Apparently Pringle’s math wasn’t as good as his reading. Given a choice, I’d have gladly flipped that the other way around.

“Go on,” Octo-Cat urged, dollar signs practically popping up in his eyes. “I’m listening.”

I crossed my arms and glared at the naughty animals.“That’s it! If I hear any more talk of selling the kittens, I’m demolishing your tree house.”

Pringle crossed his arms and glared right back at me.“Which one?”

“Both.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“If I had Carla, you wouldn’t be so fast to make threats.”

“Is that so? Go on. Go get her then.”

When Pringle raced out of the bathroom, I slammed the door shut behind him. Locked it, too, for good measure.

“It never gets old watching you interact with them.” Charles chuckled as he twisted the knobs on the tub.

“Shut those off, please.”

“Why? I thought we were giving the kittens a bath.”

“Not like that we aren’t.”

I grabbed a pair of wash cloths from the linen closet, wet them both, and handed one to Charles.“They’ve had enough trauma for the day. Let’s do it this way.”

Once the little bit of water had drained from the tub, we placed the kittens inside and worked on wiping the blood and grime from each of them in turn.

“There.” Charles returned the last of the kittens to the floor with triumph. “All done.”

“Not quite,” I whispered. Unfortunately, my whisper wasn’t quite quiet enough.

“What do you meannot quite?” Octo-Cat, who had been watching with great interest from his perch on top of the toilet tank, questioned.

Realization flashed in his eyes a moment later. When it did, he pressed his ears back against his head and hissed.“I can wassssh mysssssself!”

“Grab him now!” I shouted to Charles.

And he made a good job of it despite the cat’s violent flailing.

“This will only take a second,” I promised.

“I’m not a baby,” he grumped. “I don’t need to be coddled by you.”

“Maybe so, but you’ve got blood on you, too. And we need to get it off.”

“I hate you,” Octo-Cat growled over and over until we’d finished.

If I hadn’t been every bit as miserable as him, I might have considered extending the impromptu bath just to punish him for his cruel words.

By the time Charles let him back onto the floor, he was covered in a flurry of little striped hairs that had resulted from Octo-Cat’s stress-shedding.

“That wasn’t so bad now. Was it, big guy?” Charles asked, attempting—and failing—to wipe some of it off.

“You better watch your back, UpChuck,” my cat moaned, knowing Charles couldn’t understand the threat. “Actually,don’t. It will make my revenge that much sweeter.”

I shot him a warning glance, then opened the door to let him run out.

WOMP!

No sooner had the door opened than something hit me square on the nose. And that something was one of Carla’s foam darts.

“Pringle!” I screamed in frustration.

Six distinct laughs rose in the bathroom—five from the kittens whose lives we’d just saved and the last of them from my sweet, loyal, loving boyfriend.

Maybe Octo-Cat was right.

Maybe he should watch his back.

Foam or not, those darts hurt, especially considering Pringle’s unforgiving aim. I needed to find a way to get that thing away from him once and for all… But first, kittens.

Chapter Six

I couldn’t get the Nerf gun away from the raccoon ranger, but I did manage to chase him outside and shut the pet door tight. Hopefully now there wouldn’t be any more surprises this morning.

When I returned to the bathroom, I found Charles sitting on the edge of the bath tub and holding a swaddled kitten in each arm. As much as I wasn’t ready yet for kids and marriage, the scene melted my heart into a pulsing puddle of goo.

He noticed me watching him and gave me a sweet smile—so sweet I forgave him for laughing at my unpleasant run-in with Pringle’s dart. “C’mon, grab some purritos, and let’s head some place more comfortable.”

Oh, this man definitely knew my love language.

“Let’s get them settled in Octo-Cat’s bedroom,” I suggested, knowing that there would be heck to pay but also knowing that it was our best option on such short notice.

Somehow, I managed to juggle three swaddled kitties as we crossed the short distance to Octo-Cat’s bedroom.

My cat stood waiting at the threshold, flicking his tail so violently I worried it might snap off.“Don’t even think about it,” he grumbled.

But I refused to be scared off. His bedroom was the safest place for the squirmy kittens. After all, it had already been thoroughly cat-proofed and there were no large pieces of furniture for them to hide under. Octo-Cat would just have to suck it up for a change.

I set my jaw firm and my gaze straight ahead as I stepped past him into the room.

He trotted after me, screaming like a banshee.“I will throw up! I’ll shred the curtains! I’ll go on a hunger strike. I’ll—”

“I’ll tell Grizabella they’re yours,” I countered.

He sank back.“You wouldn’t.”

“I know this is mildly inconvenient for you, but they’re babies and they need our help. Can you please try to be civil for once in your nine lives?”

He scoffed and turned tail.“You owe me. You owe me so big, Angela,” he shouted as he ran fast and far from that room.

Whatever. I could worry about him later. For now Charles and I had kittens to attend to.

After shutting the door tight, we unwrapped each kitten and set them in the middle of the carpeted floor.

“Daddy?” one of the striped kidlets asked.

Then all the others joined.“Daddy! Daddy!” they whined, becoming increasingly agitated with each syllable.

“What got them so worked up all of a sudden?” Charles laughed, failing to realize that the cries were ones of anguish and not excitement.

“They want Octo-Cat back,” I explained as Charles sat with the kittens on the floor and I stood awkwardly by the doorway. “They think he’s their father.”

Charles laughed.“Do they?”

“Either that, or they’re just calling himDaddy.They don’t seem to know many words.”

“Well, they are babies.” He picked up one of the kittens and set it on his lap. “Maybe they need to learn to talk the same way humans do. Then again, I haven’t heard you talkto them yet. Justabout them.”

“You’re right.” I shook my head at this oversight, then lowered myself to the floor and sat cross-legged so the kittens could approach me. “Hi, guys. My name’s Angie. What are your names?”

“Want Daddy!” one of them informed me. His whiskers brushing up against my bare foot as he sniffed me. Even though the mewling fuzzballs were adorable, they were already proving to be a ridiculous amount of work.

“I’ll go get him in a second, but first I was hoping you could tell me how you wound up on my porch?”

No sooner had I asked this question than the entire litter broke into hysterics—even Charles could sense their distress. He reached out to pet the nearest kitty and received a clawed swipe for his efforts.

“That settles it.” I pushed myself back to my feet, careful not to make contact with any of the angry babies as I stood. “We need to get Octo-Cat.”

“Something tells me he’s not going to be happy about playing translator.”

I giggled.“And whatsomething is that? Every single past experience to date?”

Now we both laughed. It was funny because it was true.

Charles followed me out of the room, carefully shutting the kittens inside before looping his arms around my waist.“This reminds me of the first time we really got to know each other. Remember the Hayes double homicide?”

“How could I forget? But it’s kind of weird that you seem to consider it a romantic memory.” I spun out of his arms and headed down the stairs.

“Hey, our relationship may be a little bit different, but it’s all ours,” he explained, trailing behind me. “Speaking of, I can’t wait for Friday. I am going to knock your socks off with my big Valentine’s Day surprise.”

At the bottom of the stairs, I surveyed the foyer and the living room but couldn’t see Octo-Cat anywhere. Turning back to Charles, I frowned. “Either tell me now or stop teasing. You know I hate surprises.”

As we headed toward the kitchen, Octo-Cat shot out from under the couch and raced away as fast as his little paws could carry him.“You hate surprises? Well, not as much as me!” he yelled while fleeing.

We gave chase.“I need your help,” I called to the raging tabby. “Please. It’s important.”

“Not going to happen,” he muttered from the safety of the litter box where he’d taken up refuge.

“Please?” I asked, sticking out my lower lip pathetically and attempting puppy eyes. I didn’t expect either gesture to work, but I had nothing else at my disposal. Even when he was in a good mood, Octo-Cat made a stubborn opponent—and he was far from a good mood now.

“No,” he spat.

I sighed and hung my head.“Just remember. You forced my hand.”

“Where are you going?” Charles asked as I left Octo-Cat behind and headed toward the kitchen.

“Stay here and keep watch,” I instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

After a minute or so rummaging through the junk drawer in the kitchen, I found what I needed and returned to the guys.“Last chance,” I warned the cat.

“Still no. No, no, no, no, no,” came my cat’s reply.

That was my cue to activate the laser pointer and trace a small shaky pattern along the floor. Sure enough, Octo-Cat emerged from his safe haven to pounce at the captivating red dot. For whatever reason, it was the one thing he could never resist.

“Haha, gotcha.” Charles grabbed Octo-Cat tight and held him against his chest.

Together, we headed back toward the grand staircase, ready to deliver our hissing cargo.

“I hate you,” my cat told me for what must have been the hundredth time that day. And as much as I didn’t like hearing that, I shook his words off.

He’d been mad at me before and he’d be mad at me again, but if we didn’t help these kittens now, they may not get another chance.

Chapter Seven

We returned to the cat bedroom with a very unhappy Octo-Cat in tow.

The kittens, on the other hand, were ecstatic to see him again. Their once-anguished cries immediately turned to purring as they crowded around Octo-Cat and pressed their bodies to him.

“There’s a reason I never had kids, you know,” the poor guy wheezed, almost making me feel bad for him. Almost.

He extricated himself from the litter and went to wait by the door.“I like to be appreciated, but this is way too much for anyone.”

Could have fooled me on that one. Until now, Octo-Cat had never indicated that he could receive too much love or praise—as long as each was given onhis terms.

“They love you,” I said gently.

He kept his pointed gaze on the door.“They don’t even know me. Now let me out.”

I had to stop myself from answering,“That’s probably why they love you.” Octo-Cat only enjoyed snark when he was the one giving it.

“Can I try something?” Charles asked.

I motioned for him to go ahead.

“Think back to when you were a kitten,” he addressed Octo-Cat with a placating expression. Of course, he had no idea how his words were being received by the subject. “Wouldn’t you have liked to have a bigger, cooler cat to help show you the way?”

Octo-Cat snorted.“And this guy is considered smart by your kind? Oh, brother.”

Well, I could have told Charles that appealing to the tabby’s sense of compassion would be a no-go. We needed take a harder tack. “You’re not getting out of this room until we help these kittens.”

“Fine. Let’s help them back where they came from. To the porch!” He shifted on his paws but remained glued to the spot.

I raised one eyebrow.“Still not convinced?”

“Not in the slightest.” Octo-Cat kept his nose high in the air, refusing to look at either me or the kittens despite their continued efforts to claim his attention. They’d scrambled their way over and were now sitting in a straight line behind him, also staring at the door.

“I’m not backing down on this. But since you seem to need an extra bit of convincing, I’m going to send a text to Nan right now to see if she can help.” I pulled out my phone and began typing away.

He scoffed.“Oooh, I’m shaking in my fur.”

“What’s Nan going to do?” Charles wondered aloud.

I smirked as I hit send.“She and Paisley are going to stop by the store on their way home from booty boot camp. I’ve asked her to pick up some generic branddry cat food.

My cat seethed with rage. He obviously wanted to take a swipe at me, but still remained rooted to the spot in front of the door.“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would.” I cackled like a witch. Although I hated having to resort to such measures, I also somewhat enjoyed giving my cat what was coming to him. “I’ve asked Nan to get store-brand crunchies for you and a new bowl for Paisley.”

“Why would Paisley need a new bowl?” He cocked his head to the side and thought about this. Understanding dawned a brief moment later. “NO!”

“Yes!” I insisted. “You’ll be eating those new generic dry crunchies from Paisley’s used dog bowl. And guess what else?”

He took a couple steps back and pressed himself against the wall.“Not my Evian.”

“That’s right. It’s about time you developed a taste for tap water,” I said with a shrug.

“You are an evil woman, Angela. A very evil woman.”

I simply smiled and gave him a couple minutes to process everything.

Finally, he turned toward the line of kittens and lay down with his forelegs folded beneath him.“So if I agree to help, you’ll agree to cancel any changes to my menu or dining service?”

“Correct. Plus the sooner we figure out what’s going on with the kittens, the sooner we can find new homes for them—also the sooner we can get them out of your hair.”

“I do like the sound of that,” he conceded as one kitten yanked on his tail and another climbed onto his back. “But you should still know that I’m helping out of duress.”

“Noted. Now let’s get to work. I need your help talking to them.”

He sighed, then yawned, then flopped onto his side.

The kittens pushed themselves against his belly and purred.

That was too much for Octo-Cat. He jumped back onto his feet and shouted,“Stop that! I am not your mama.”

“Daddy,” the kittens mewled merrily.

“I’m not that, either. I don’t even know who you are. Maybe you can start by telling me that.”

“Hungry,” one of the other kittens said without properly pronouncing theR,so it came out more likehungee.

Octo-Cat looked to me.“Did you get that?”

I nodded, then translated for Charles,“They’re hungry.”

He pulled out his phone and began to browse the web in response.

“How old do you think they are?” I asked Octo-Cat.

“It’s hard to say. A couple months, maybe.”

Charles set his phone on top of the closed aquarium and lifted a kitten in one hand, then handed her to me.“That’s about a pound, right?”

I nodded, unsure of it myself.

“Then we should be okay trying some soft cat food.”

“Should I get some of Octo-Cat’s?” I offered. It’s not like we had anything else in the house that could work.

“Don’t you dare!” he growled, startling the kittens.

“We need a special kind for kittens,” Charles explained. “Could you text Nan back and ask her to get some from the store?”

“I could, but I didn’t actually text her. That was a bluff.”

Octo-Cat glowered at me, clearly not pleased with anything about our current situation.

“I’ll head out then, if that’s okay,” Charles offered. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.” He placed a kiss on my forehead, then carefully let himself out of the room so that none of the felines could exit after him.

“Can I go now?” my cat asked me as the kittens continued to lick, nip, and bat at him.

“Sorry. I still need your help. Do you think the kittens will be willing to talk once they’ve been fed?”

“Maybe,” he answered with an exhausted sigh. “But little ones this age don’t know very many words. Much more advanced than humans at this age, but still with nowhere near the intellect of a full-grown cat.”

This was turning out to be quite the challenge.“Then what do we do?”

“I say we revisit the raccoon’s idea to—”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you.”

“You’re no fun,” he groaned. “If you want to figure out what happened to them, you’re going to have to mount an investigation, AKA you’re going to have to do your job for a change.”

Ouch.

But also…touch?.

Chapter Eight

After Octo-Cat assured me he’d keep an eye on the little ones, I went to survey the scene of their abandonment. Other than a few bloody pawprints, the porch looked normal enough.

A faint pair of boot prints could just be made out under the fresh snowfall. I put my foot into one as a gauge for size. It was larger, but only just. Nothing about the style of the print gave away the wearer’s gender, and I could find no other clues nearby.

Any tire tracks that may have been left behind had already mixed in with the ones Nan made when leaving for her fitness class. For all I knew the mysterious doorstep-dropper could have been on foot.

“I thought I smelled your unique aroma wafting through my treehouse.” Pringle climbed up the porch railing and hopped down to stand beside me. I was pleased to see he’d left Carla at home. I was also quite offended by what he’d just said to me.

“How dare you say I stink!”

“I said you smelled,” he corrected, wagging a finger at me. “Notbad,exactly. Not good, either, though.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus. If Pringle insisted on bothering me, maybe he could offer some assistance while he was here.“Did you see who brought the kittens?”

“Nope. I heard the car driving away but didn’t get here in enough time to see anything.”

Okay. So they were delivered by vehicle, which meant that someone had intentionally chosen my house for this very special delivery.

I could unpack that later. Right now I needed to use Pringle while I had him.“Usually you’re so fast. How did you miss this?”

He sank to all fours and sighed.“I had to wait for a good place to pause my show.”

“Survivor?”

“You know it. I’m on season twenty-seven, and it is definitely the most dramatic one yet.”

Didn’t he know they said that every season about every single reality show? Well, at least this addiction of his kept him from creating havoc for me 24/7.

“Uh-huh.Are you least learning valuable survival skills from all this binge-watching?”

He blew a raspberry.“Please. I watch it simply because it’s so bad. I could teach these humans a thing or two or two hundred about wilderness survival. By the way, I sent in an application for next season, using your name and video.”

It was already bad enough he snuck into my texts and social media. Now there was a video? Wait… what? “What video?” I boomed.

“Why, the one I took through your window when you weren’t paying attention, of course.” His answer came out flippantly, as if he saw nothing wrong with his actions at all. That made it worse, because it meant that things like this would happen again… and again.

And again.

I clenched my fists tight at my side but forced myself to keep calm. Recording private videos of me was definitely not okay. If he were a human, I would have called the police to come and get him.

Unfortunately, I still needed Pringle’s help with the kittens. After that, I could rain down all kinds of punishment on him.

“Since you like spying and finding out secrets,” I managed at last, still unable to look the raccoon in the eye, “maybe you can figure out where the kittens came from?”

“Where they came from?” he asked in that grating nasal voice of his, although perhaps I was coloring the situation red with the rage of his recent revelation. “Why does it matter?”

I balked. How could he not understand?“Because didn’t you see all that blood?”

He shrugged off my concern.“So what? Blood happens. It’s a fact of life.”

“Not for humans, it doesn’t. Blood usually means something has gone seriously wrong.” How could he know so much about humans, yet still know so little? A lot of good all his reality TV viewing and covert spy operations were doing him.

“Yes, but you foundkittens, didn’t you?Not humans,so thus not a big deal.”

“Still, it would really help put my mind at ease. Can you just… I don’t know… follow their scent or something?”

“Ex-squeeze me? Follow their scent? What do you think I am? Some kind of dog?”

I stared at him with my mouth open for a moment before answering.

Over the last year or so, I’d found there were two effective ways to deal with Pringle when I needed him to do something. The first was to give him something he wanted—treehouses, an adventure, a Nerf gun named Carla. The second, although harder to pull off, was much easier on the wallet. It was time to pull out this strategy and hope it did the trick.

It was time to employ reverse psychology.

“Aren’t raccoons part of the dog family?” I knew that they weren’t, but that was beside the point.

“Yeah, maybe the disgruntled cousin. Either way, we’re not having Thanksgiving dinner together. Capiche?”

I frowned, all part of the act.“So you’re saying raccoons can’t smell as well as dogs? That’s okay. I understand. Paisley will be home soon, so I can just—”

“Wash your mouth out with soap right now! Raccoons are superior to dogs in every single way. I could sniff out the culprit if I wanted to.”

“Yeah, but Paisley has a lot of experience. I bet she could trace the scent without even having to lower her nose to the ground.”

The raccoon placed a hand on each hip.“I don’t need experience to be the best. I was born that way. Now, you get out of my way!”

Satisfaction wrapped around me like a warm blanket as I watched Pringle scurry down the driveaway and out of sight. I hoped he’d be able to trace the source of the kittens, but even if he couldn’t, at least he was out of the way for the next couple hours.

Meanwhile I had one more piece of evidence to process before calling in some outside help, and it was waiting for me in the upstairs bathroom.

To the box!

Chapter Nine

The box was not in good shape. Not only had it been soiled with bloody pawprints, but it had also been badly shredded around the top edges and the inside. Whoever had packed the kittens inside had decided to fold the top flaps inward rather than letting them hang down over the outside.

I pulled each of the flaps out to take a closer look. Sure enough, beneath all the stains and scratches, I spied a white shipping label. Would this give me the address of the person who’d dropped off the litter?

I grabbed a container of bleach wipes from under the bathroom sink and began to carefully dab at the label. By the time I was done, I had a partial address:

1 8 ir S

Gle le, E

Well, that was helpful.

I could tell that the second line should read Glendale, Maine, but the first was so scratched up I found it impossible to read more than two numbers and three letters. None of which helped my tired brain.

Maybe Charles or Nan would have some idea. I’d be sure to ask them when they returned home.

For now, I was all out of clues—and Octo-Cat was probably all out of patience. I took a snapshot of the address label for safekeeping and then returned to the cat room.

I’d left the cats alone for fifteen minutes at most, but the scene that greeted me upon my return felt lightyears apart from the one I’d left behind.

Octo-Cat had lined up the kittens in a straight row right in front of the fish tank. He now walked back and forth, holding his tail high and erect as he spoke.“To be a cat, you have to be strong, brave, and—above all—well-groomed. Do you understand me?”

“Daddy! Yes, Daddy!” the kittens shouted in unison. Their high-pitched baby voices made this scene even more absurd than the fact they were cats.

Octo-Cat did an about-face, unable to hide the smug grin on his face even as he caught sight of me.

“What are you doing?” I asked cautiously, curious but also not wanting an earful.

“Training up the new recruits,” he barked—or at least made a canine-like noise, one I’d never heard him utter before.

“Daddy! Yes, Daddy!” the kittens responded in kind.

While I was glad he’d changed his stance on spending time with the youngsters, I was also now very worried. “Training them to do what exactly?”

“To be cats, of course. It’s a very important and very demanding job.” My cat grinned a jokeresque grin, which would have frightened me were it not so comical.

I choked down a laugh.“I’m sure it is. How much do they even understand?”

“While it’s true their vocabulary is limited, it’s never too early to begin training. Also I’m more than happy to lead by example. Watch and learn.” He turned back to his recruits and plopped his rear down before them, then lifted one paw to his forehead in salute and waited for the kittens to respond in kind.

“Are you ready for your next lesson?” he shouted.

“Daddy! Yes, Daddy!” they shouted.

Well, it seemed Nan and Paisley weren’t the only ones to go to boot camp today. There was entirely too much shouting going on.

“I call this one operative 037. Observe.” Octo-Cat came flying in my direction, suddenly pulling to a stop just before smashing headfirst into my legs.

I winced, expecting some kind of attack, but all he did was rub his head lovingly against me. A loud purr rumbled in his throat as he glanced back toward the line of kittens.

Aww, this was nice. He was teaching the babies how to be little love balls. I didn’t know he had it in him.

“Now you give it a try, cadets!” he shouted again, jarring my nerves.

The kittens trotted over and rubbed their heads and bodies against my feet and ankles, just as their instructor had done.

“Well done. Well done, indeed.” Octo-Cat took a brief moment to dote on them, then shifted back into business mode. “From here we’ll move straight into operative 038.”

Before I could ask what was next, Octo-Cat sank his front claws into my leg and climbed from the floor to my shoulder, using me as his ladder.

“Ahhhh!” I cried, but it did nothing to stop all five kittens from following suit.“I don’t like this!”

Octo-Cat ignored me as he jumped down onto the floor.“All right. Now disengage.”

“Daddy! Yes, Daddy!” One brave kitten leaped to the ground, but the others went back the way they’d come—down my poor, pained body.

“Why would you teach them that?” I moaned as I pushed myself flat against the closed door.

Octo-Cat studied his paw rather than looking at me.“We cats have to use any resources at our disposal.”

Ouch. Way to add insult to injury.“Is that all I am to you?A resource?”

“It’s notall you are, but it is part of it. Trust me, you’ll be glad I’ve trained them up. Just wait and see.”

“They aren’t staying,” I muttered as several pinpoints on my body pulsed with pain. Now I was even more determined to see the kittens safely off than Octo-Cat had been earlier that afternoon.

Had he planned it this way? The evil genius.

“Listen,” I continued, still pressed firmly against the door and eyeing my cat warily. “You’ve done a great job looking after them. Why don’t you take a little break?”

He scoffed and took a step closer.“And leave their education to you? I think not.”

Crud.Well, it was worth a try. If he insisted on turning the kittens into some kind of deranged domestic soldiers, I could at least make sure I wasn’t around for the next operative. The kittens had already lined back up and were awaiting further instruction when I crept out of the room and headed back downstairs.

I still couldn’t believe how quickly Octo-Cat had changed his tune about our litter of foundlings. We needed to find them homes and fast, before my ever-scheming cat used them to execute total world domination.

What? I wouldn’t put it past him.

Both Charles and Pringle would be back soon. Until then I would wait safely on the porch and scroll through my social media feeds to pass time.

It didn’t take long for someone to return, and that someone was Nan. She and Paisley looked wicked worn out, which was rare for them.

“How was class?” I asked as the two of them crept slowly up the porch steps.

“Painful.” Nan winced with each movement. “Now what are you doing out here?”

“Hiding from the cats,” I explained, although it embarrassed me somewhat.

My grandmother paused and shot me a worried look.“Cats? As in plural? Am I going senile already? I could have sworn we just had the one.”

I nodded.“It’s a long story. Come upstairs, and I’ll show you.”

Nan shook her head slowly.“I’m not sure I’m ready to tackle the big stairs just yet. It may take me a few hours. At least until these pulsing fireworks stop going off in my quads.”

“She did, like, a million squats,” the equally exhausted Chihuahua informed me. “But not once did she go potty.”

I chuckled at this.“Did you do squats, too?”

Paisley wagged her tail at my attention.“Nope. There was a big dog there, and we wrestled while the humans busted their booties.”

“Did you at least win?”

“Oh, yeah,” she barked happily. “That will teach that silly old Great Dane to underestimate me!”

Ha!Our sweet Paisley, always full of surprises.

Chapter Ten

Once inside, I helped Nan get settled on the couch. And with every gasp and groan that escaped her mouth, I thanked my lucky stars there hadn’t been an open spot for me in her new fitness class.

“You wait there,” I told her after fluffing a pillow behind her back. “I’ll go get the kittens.”

Paisley followed me up the stairs, whining slightly as she went.

I turned to look back at her, but she just kept climbing like a champ.“I thought you were tired, too?”

Her ears perked up.“I am, but I still want to go with you, Mommy. I missed you while Nan and I were away.”

Why couldn’t my cat ever be this nice?

Even though she was nice and even though she was tired, I still couldn’t take any chances when it came to the kittens. I scooped Paisley into my arms and entered Octo-Cat’s bedroom.

Paisley let out a sharp bark and squirmed furiously in my arms.“Oh, my! Puppies! Cat puppies!”

“Don’t be so insulting.” Octo-Cat sniffed derisively. “These are kittens. Notcat puppies,you simpleton.”

Paisley didn’t so much as whimper at the insult. She was far too excited to care. “Please set me down, Mommy!” she begged. “I want to go say hi!”

The moment I did, she bounded over to the line of kitty cadets and squealed happily as she licked the insides of each young feline’s ears.

They giggled and fell to their sides.

“Can’t you see I’m leading a class here?” Octo-Cat seethed, his tail twitching aggressively.

“Yes. And your class is about to take a field trip. Nan wants to meet them.”

“Then have her come up here? It’s best we don’t disturb their environment. Otherwise it could undo all their training.”

If only.With any luck they’d forget operative 038 forever.

I sucked air through my teeth and shook my head.“No can do, Mr. Kitty. Nan is stuck downstairs, so we’re bringing the babies to her.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” Octo-Cat sighed heavily as the two of us watched Paisley cuddle and lick the mass of kittens. It’s official; they’re ruined now.

“Mommy?” one of the kitties asked the others as she cuddled up to the doting Chihuahua.

“Mommy!” the rest cheered in response.

Octo-Cat gasped.

I chuckled.

Paisley trotted over to us with the kittens ambling behind.“Mommy,” she addressed me, “the cat puppies are calling for you.”

I bent down to scratch between her ears.“Actually, I think they’re calling foryou. They’ve decided you’re their mommy.”

“Me? A mommy? Oh my love!” Paisley’s dark eyes welled with tears. In just a few more weeks, the kittens would probably all be larger than Paisley, but she would now forever be their mother—I had no doubt about that.

“Mommy,” the kittens cooed, and then turning to Octo-Cat, “Daddy!”

“Octavius,”Paisley warbled, still crying tears of joy.“We have puppies together. Does that mean we should get married?”

“I’m ready to go now, Angela,” Octo-Cat informed me, turning to face the door, his voice devoid of any emotion—the poor guy had clearly had his fill of insanity for one day.

“Paisley, can you watch them for a minute? I’ll be right back.”

“Yes, Mommy.” She returned to her litter and started a game of chase. She’d gone from zero to sixty mighty fast upon meeting the kitties.

“Hey, now you’re Grand-Mommy!” she pointed out just as I was shutting the door behind Octo-Cat.

Oh, great. I wasn’t ready to marry and have my own kids, but somehow I’d become a grandma anyway.Wonderful.

Brushing that thought aside, I went to retrieve the cat carrier from storage. I needed some way to get the kittens downstairs, and it just didn’t feel right putting them back in that bloody, battered box.

Paisley spoke calmly to her litter as I loaded them into the carrier, making the task a piece of cake.

Once downstairs, I set the carrier beside Nan on the couch and opened the wire mesh door.

“This is Nan. She’sGreat Nanto you,” the proud doggie mother informed them. “Be careful not to fall or jump off the couch. We Chihuahuas are a fragile breed.”

Just as I was wondering whether Paisley understood that these were not her actual babies, Nan caught sight of the kittens for the first time and gasped with delight.

“Where did you come from?” she squealed in the high-pitched voice she normally reserved only for Paisley.

I caught Nan up on the particulars while she petted and cuddled the babies.

“How horrible! What kind of monster would abandon such sweet babies?” she asked once I’d finished.

I shook my head, still at a loss.“I’m less concerned with why someone would leave them here than with where the blood came from.”

“Blood?”Paisley barked.“Are my cat puppies hurt? We need to go to the vet right now!”

Not only was the little dog proving to be quite the helicopter parent, but she also had a really good idea. I would have chastised myself for not thinking of it earlier, but we’d only found them very recently and have been very busy trying to figure out where they came from, get them food, and make sure they stayed out of trouble.

“We should go to the vet,” I agreed with a nod. “They don’t seem hurt, but it’s better to know for sure.”

“Let’s go now. I need to make sure my puppies are okay!” Paisley whined and gave out another round of licks. For whatever reason, the Chihuahua seemed to think that inner-ear kisses could solve anything. If I wasn’t careful, she’d sneak up on me and push her warm, wet tongue into my ear, too.

Luckily, Charles pulled into the drive just then, causing Paisley to temporarily forget her panic and instead start barking in excitement.

The kittens mewled their best attempts at a bark, and I broke apart in laughter. It seemed Paisley wasn’t the only one confused about what species our litter belonged to.

“I’m back,” Charles sang as he passed through the foyer and joined us in the living room. “Did you miss me?”

I smiled in relief.“You have no idea how much.” He really didn’t. Even though less than an hour had passed, a record-breaking amount of activity had occurred.

Charles set the bag from the pet store on the table and pulled out a pair of stainless-steel bowls. Next he took out the canned cat food and pulled the tabs to open them.

The kittens definitely recognized the smell as being something to eat.

“Hungry!” they cried in their cutesy baby voices, stumbling toward the edge of the couch.

Paisley managed to catch one by the scruff of its neck before it toppled over the edge.“Careful, my darling dear.”

Charles, Nan, and I placed the kittens on the floor with the two bowls of food and watched them gobble it down.

“Should I open up another can?” he asked me with a questioning glance.

“Better not. They still have tiny bellies, and I don’t want them to get sick. Especially since we’re going to the vet after this.”

“I’m not going!” Octo-Cat called from the other room.

“You’re not invited!” I shouted back. Now that Paisley had graciously taken responsibility for the litter, we didn’t need drill instructor Octavius’s help any longer.

Let’s just hope the poor doggie foster mom didn’t become too attached. I’d hate to see her heart break when we sent them off to their forever homes.

Chapter Eleven

And off to the veterinarian’s clinic we went.

Charles called ahead to let them know we were stopping by without an appointment, but that the adorable kittens would surely make it worth their while.

The three of us must have made quite the spectacle as we marched into the animal hospital, holding the mewing crate high as their Chihuahua mother ran at our sides yapping a constant stream of encouragement.

“Don’t worry, my cat puppies. You’re not sick. The doctor’s just going to make sure you stay that way. It’s all part of growing up. You will be brave for Mommy, won’t you?”

“Mommy! Yes, Mommy!” Well, it seemed not all of Octo-Cat’s training had been forgotten.

“Let me guess,” the receptionist said as she rose to her feet and peeked into the cat carrier. “You must be the Russo party.”

“That’s us,” I confirmed with a nod, even though I was the only one whose last name was actually Russo.

“Come with me. Dr. Lowe is just finishing up with another patient. She should be with you shortly.” She smiled and motioned for us to follow, swinging her hips the whole way.

We obediently followed her into exam room two.

“Good luck!” the receptionist called, closing us inside.

Charles remained standing so that Nan and I could take the two chairs.“Did you see that her scrubs had pawprints and bones on them? That is so neat. I wish lawyers got more interesting clothing options, but everyone in the courtroom would look at me like I was crazy if I came wearing a suit with a gavel or the scales of justice patterned all over it.”

“You should do it anyway,” Nan offered with a wink. After all, she was the queen of outrageous costumes. She’d wear just about anything, just so long as it was the right shade of pink.

I laughed uncomfortably. At least Christmas had already passed, or else Nan might be gifting my boyfriend with a new hot pink lawyer suit.Cringe.

As promised, a few minutes later, Dr. Britt Lowe entered the room, clipboard in hand. She was the youngest of all the veterinarians in the office and the one who most regularly saw our pets. She widened her eyes and puckered her lips as she took us in.“I hear you have kittens.”

“Not intentionally,” I was quick to clarify, though I’m not sure why. “They were left on our doorstep this morning.”

She glanced down at her chart.“I have a note here that they were covered in blood?”

“Well, not covered,” Charles explained. “But they had it on their paws and a little in their fur as well. We had to give them a bath.”

“That must have been fun,” the vet said with a chuckle. “Let’s take them out and have a look. One at a time, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, children,” Paisley barked. “Be good for the doctor. No biting or growling.”

Dr. Lowe bent down and gave the dog a pat.“Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there, Paisley.”

“She’s become quite attached to the litter,” I said with a frown. Every single minute that passed before rehoming the kittens would only add to Paisley’s eventual heartbreak.

“I bet your cat is none too pleased,” Dr. Lowe said with another chuckle.

“You would definitely win that bet.” Yes, even among other cat lovers, my cat had a reputation for being a diva. He couldn’t help that he was raised in excessive luxury for his first several years, but still.

Charles handed our vet the first of the kittens.

“Hello, there, you cutie pie,” she cooed. “This is why I love my job.”

A huge grin stretched across her face as she examined the patient.“Girl. About seven or eight weeks. Most likely a Maine Coon or Maine Coon mix.”

She placed a stethoscope against the kitten’s tiny chest. “Heartbeat is good, and from what I can see, she has no injuries.”

“So the blood wasn’t hers?” Nan asked, her hands clasped against her chest.

“No, but I still have four others to examine.”

I took the first kitten back, and Charles handed Dr. Lowe the second. This one was also deemed fit as a fiddle.

One by one, the doctor declared each baby—three girls and two boys—healthy and without injury.

“So then where did the blood come from?” Charles wanted to know.

Dr. Lowe shook her head.“Sorry, but I couldn’t say.”

“Are there many litters abandoned on people’s doorsteps around Glendale?” I pressed. I was glad the kittens passed their health check but felt uncomfortable leaving without any answers as to their origin.

“This would be the first I’ve come across it,” she responded, which didn’t mean much given how short a time she’d been working here. “Do you think it was a random drive-by or that someone meant to leave these kittens with you specifically?”

Charles answered for me.“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“And not having much luck, unfortunately,” I added with a heavy sigh.

“Well, the important thing is that they’re safe now that they’re with you. If you need help finding them homes, we could put a flyer up in the office,” she suggested while jotting a note on her chart. “No charge for today’s visit. Good luck!”

Having been dismissed, we settled the kittens back in their carrier. I was still so confused by their sudden appearance. Could someone be sending me a threat? Is that why they’d been covered in blood? It may seem farfetched, but I’d had my life threatened before—so why not now? Why not with this?

“What should we do now?” I asked Charles.

But it was Nan who answered.“For whatever reason, these kittens found us. I say we provide them with a loving home and stop worrying about the rest.”

“Yes! Yes! Let’s do that!” Paisley yipped with excitement, then ran fast, tight circles around the office. Zoomies.

“Nan,” I growled. “These are things we should discussin private.”

She crimsoned under the scrutiny of my gaze but didn’t apologize for making the suggestion.

“Do you want to keep one?” I asked Charles.

“Jacques and Jillianne would never forgive me if I brought another animal home. You know that.” He was right. His two hairless cats weren’t exactly hospitable. They also spoke only in rhymes and riddles, which would, no doubt, drive any kitty we sent to live with them batty.

Thankfully, Nan and Paisley both remained quiet as we made our way out of the clinic. Was I a bad person for not wanting to add an army of cats into my daily life? I mean, who knew what kind of damage Octo-Cat could do to their psyches with the opportunity to raise them up from this young age? My side still hurt from where Octavius and all five kitties had climbed up my leg and torso. No, I definitely couldn’t handle this kind of havoc every single day.

Another thought popped into my mind and scared the living daylights out of me.What if the kittens wanted to help with the P.I. business? Dealing with one cat already took a great deal of both patience and delicacy, but six?

No, thank you. I’d sooner work as an underappreciated paralegal for the rest of my days.

“We’re not keeping them,” I sputtered a couple minutes later, my mind more than made up. “But we will make sure each of them finds the perfect home.”

Nan crossed her arms over her chest and pouted while Charles nodded his agreement.“We’ll find them great homes,” he said, lacing his fingers through mine.

I looked to Paisley who lay dejectedly on my lap.“I guess all puppies have to grow up some day. I just didn’t know it would come this soon for mine.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from reminding her that she’d only known her “puppies” for less than an hour.

The clock was ticking fast. Now I needed to protect both the kittens and their dog mom. Nothing else mattered until we could find a way to give everyone a happy ending.

Chapter Twelve

Once we’d made it home again, Paisley tended to the kittens in the living room while Nan prepared lunch for the humans.

Charles and I ventured up to my work library to work on posting an ad for the kittens online and to design a flyer for the vet’s office. Despite Pringle’s earnest advice, we were offering them free to a good home—provided the would-be owner could provide a great veterinarian reference.

“I’m sorry our big day together got ruined,” I told Charles while navigating the same free graphics program I’d used to create a simplistic logo for the Pet Whisperer P.I. website.

Charles moved behind me and rubbed my shoulders while I worked and we chatted.“What are you talking about? This is great. A real memory in the making.”

“I guess it’s better than watching TV,” I conceded, although I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to cuddle and relax with my dashing other half. In truth, we never took it easy, such was the nature of our crazy lives.

A rapping at the big bay window broke my concentration. Our not-so-friendly neighborhood raccoon stood on the ledge, waiting to be let in. This happened somewhat frequently these days and was why I no longer kept a screen in the window.

“What’s up?” I asked after cranking it open.

“What’s… up?” Pringle asked, gasping for breath between the two words. “That all… you got? After I… tracked those… annoying little… furballs for… you?”

Oh, yes!In all the fuss, I’d almost forgotten that I’d sent him on a fact-finding/ raccoon-distracting mission. “Welcome back. What have you got for me?”

He hopped down and pressed a hand against the wall for support.“First refreshments… Then I’ll spill.”

“Be right back,” I told Charles.

“What?” he asked, taken aback. “Don’t leave me alone with that thing!”

“With thisthing?” Pringle raged.“With this thing? I’ll have you know that I’m the most pedigreed—” Suddenly his words gave way and he moved one furry hand to clutch his chest. “I mean… Please… Need food.”

“Nice try. I don’t like lying,” I scolded, returning to my desk chair and spinning in it to face him. “I’ll feed you, but you’ll talk first.”

Knowing the act was up, Pringle straightened his posture and cracked his neck to either side.“Fine.”

I waited for him to comb at his fur with his fingers as he gathered his bearings.

Finally he began.“I ran for miles but got nowhere with the case.”

“Did you even try?” I asked with indignation. He’d been gone for so long, I’d let myself hope he’d found something. No dice.

“You insult me,” he hissed and bared his teeth. “Of course I tried. I asked every animal I came across, but nobody knew nothing about no orphaned kittens.”

“When this is all over and done, we need to work on your grammar,” I muttered without thinking.

Pringle dropped to all fours and raised his back, making his body appear much larger than its usual size.“Really? I spend all morning doing your dirty work, and this is the thanks I get? I’m leaving.”

“Wait. I’m sorry. Let me get you some food first. Fancy Feast?” Even though Octo-Cat had switched to a new brand of cat food called Delectable Delights to support his girlfriend’s modeling career, I still had to buy Fancy Feast to satisfy the raccoon’s frequent cravings.

“Yes, and some steak, please,” he added while licking his chops.

“How much issome steak?”

“How much you got?”

“I’ll get it,” Charles offered. As he passed me, he leaned close and whispered, “That way you can’t be held accountable if I get it wrong.”

“I heard that,” Pringle complained to me once Charles had left the room. “And now you owe me double. Quality or quantity, it’s your choice, but I wouldn’t turn my nose up at some prime rib served medium rare. You never buy me the good cuts of steak.”

I never bought the good cuts for myself, either. And weren’t raccoons supposed to feed themselves?

Nope. I wasn’t falling for his sob story.

“Sorry. I don’t think so. Not after you’ve invaded my privacy left and right.”

“I don’t get humans’ obsession withprivacy.” He made air quotes around this last word.“It’s not like you give any to us.”

I refused to let him get away with that one.“What are you talking about? I never bother you. It’s always the other way around.”

“So now I’m a bother?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”

“Just what?” He widened his eyes in challenge while awaiting my response.

Reasoning with him never got me very far, and I was too busy with everything else to bother trying now.“Forget it,” I said with a deep sigh.

“Yeah, like I said, you owe me, but don’t worry. I already know exactly what I want, and it won’t cost you much at all.”

Oh, joy.Maybe if I didn’t respond, he would keep quiet until Charles returned with the raccoon’s ill-gotten gains.

“I love my Carla, but I think I’m ready to handle two of her kind,” he explained while he mimed taking aim at me with the gun. Thank goodness I knew Carla was what he had named his Nerf weapon, otherwise I’d be seriously offended for all womankind—human, raccoon, or otherwise.

“I’m not getting you another Nerf gun,” I said firmly. If I showed any signs of weakness, he’d pounce.

“It’s okay if it’s not name brand. I ain’t picky.”

“Great.”

“You can deliver it to my left treehouse by sundown.” And didn’t that say it all? The fact he had to specifywhich treehouse he wanted to receive the hypothetical delivery.

“I’m not doing anything until we figure out the deal with these kittens,” I said, more than fed up with his demands. “And if you’ll recall, you didn’t actually even help.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault! I tried!” he squeaked. Finally he’d begun to lose his cool, which meant he was also losing his leverage.

“Okay, who’s ready for some lunch?” Charles sang as he rejoined us. He’d brought up two plates with grilled gruyere and tomato sandwiches and a grocery bag stuffed full of assorted junk food.

“Nan wanted us to eat up here so she could have some alone time with the kittens,” he said in response to my unspoken question.

“And this, my man, is for you.” He handed the shopping bag to Pringle, who eagerly accepted it.

“Door, please,” he told me without so much as a backward glance my way.

I had no desire to keep him around, so I opened the door and watched him clamber down the stairs. The pet door was still closed, so I had to follow him down to assist.

“I’m starved,” I said upon returning.

Charles settled into the window seat and waited for me to join him.

I accepted the plate he handed to me and took a giant bite of my sandwich after mumbling a quick thanks—so warm, so gooey. I shrugged and took another bite.

We scarfed down our sandwiches in much the same way the kittens had inhaled their meal earlier.

“Any idea why Nan would need some alone time with the kittens?” Charles wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “You don’t think she’s going to pull something to try to make you keep them? Do you?”

I jumped to my feet and cried,“Well, I didn’t before! C’mon, we’ve got to hurry!”

I tugged Charles’s hand, pulling him into the hall and down the stairs. If we were fast, we could still stop her from whatever it was she planned to pull.

Oh, that nan of mine!

Chapter Thirteen

Sure enough, the only thing we found downstairs was a smug Octo-Cat sitting on the coffee table and quite obviously waiting for us.

“Missing something?” he asked with a cruel chuckle as a Cheshire grin swept across his face.

Well, that confirmed it. Nan had hit the road and taken the kittens along with her.“How long has she been gone?” I asked the still gloating cat.

“She left the very minute UpChuck headed upstairs with the food.” He yawned and stretched before settling back into a seated position. “By the way, nobody offered to feed me.”

Oh, boy. I could already tell this would take a while. Nan could make it all the way to Florida in the time it took me to convince my cat to help.

“You never have lunch,” I reminded him gently, all the while praying my instincts about this encounter were dead wrong.

“You only eat in the morning and night,” I added pathetically.

“It’s still nice to be asked. Especially since I know you promised the raccoon steak.”

“I definitely never promised anything.”

“Well, it seems we’ve reached an impasse then.” He turned around so that his back was to me. I could just imagine him laughing at my gullibility, but I didn’t have any time to spare if I wanted to protect Paisley’s feelings and discover where Nan had taken the kittens—and I definitely wanted to do both of those things ASAP.

“Do you know where she went?” I asked in a shaky whisper.

He flicked his tail twice and then slowly shifted back my way.“Maybe,” came his curt reply.

Maybe wasn’t yes, but it also wasn’t no. I’d have to play his little game, whether I liked it or not. I couldn’t hold back my sigh as I asked, “All right, what’s it going to take? A can of food?”

“Pffffshaw.It’ll take a lot more than that.” Octo-Cat’s eyes glowed as he licked at his chops. “Like steak, for starters.”

“Do you actually like steak? You’ve never even tried it.” Although I’d only just eaten, now my stomach rumbled, too.

“No, I haven’t. And honestly that’s the whole problem. You just don’t consider me and my needs as much as you should.”

I held my breath to keep from screaming. My whole life revolved around my crabby tabby and his wants and needs.

He sniffed and turned his nose up at me.“I will require at least nine steaks, one for each of the lives I was born with.”

I sighed and nodded along with his lengthy list of demands. The sooner we got this over with, the sooner he might actually help me.

“I will also need a lobster roll from Little Dog Diner.”

He paused to take a breath, and I jumped in with another objection.“But Little Dog Diner is all the way over in Misty Harbor.”

“I know where it is. I also know they make the best lobster rolls in all of the bay, so you’re going.”

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists.“Fine. Anything else?”

“Yes. I saved the best for last.” His smile laced a knot of dread into my heart. Heaven help me.

“You see,” he continued, unaware of how anxious I’d become during our very one-sided conversation. “As much as I enjoy spending time with Pringleon occasion, he’s been rather insufferable lately.”

“Let me guess. Carla.” This, we actually agreed on. Maybe we could join forces to teach that raccoon a lesson.

Octo-Cat made a clicking noise and waved a paw my way.“Bingo.”

“So what? You want a Nerf gun, too?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, Angela. Haven’t you noticed that I don’t have any opposable thumbs? Really, I thought you were more observant than that. I need a specialized weapon that doesn’t discriminate against those of us without thumbs.”

I sighed. Maybe we weren’t on the same side, after all. “Such as?” I asked politely.

My cat’s eyes locked on mine, trapping me within his gaze. “I was thinking a battle axe.”

“Are you kidding me?” I sputtered in disbelief. “There’s no way I’m getting you a battle axe. You’d chop my foot off the first time I forgot to feed you.”

“Maybe that’s a sign you shouldn’t forget to feed me.”

He let out a sinister laugh as phantom pain smarted in my ankle. There would definitely be no battle axe.

“I do my best. You know that. I’m not getting you a battle axe, though. So try again.”

He cleared his throat and tried again.“A sword.”

I shook my head.

“Mace.”

“Like pepper spray?” I asked. “I guess that’s not so bad. I can—”

“No, Angela. Not like pepper spray. Like a big spiky ball on the end of a chain.”

“Remind me again why you need all this heavy-duty medieval weaponry?” I managed to choke out. This wasn’t the first time I’d been afraid of my cat, but it was the worst. Talk about an unstable genius.

“To defend myself,” he answered as if this all made perfect sense to him.

“Against foam darts?”

Octo-Cat smiled and nodded.“Precisely.”

“I could get you a foam sword,” I offered with a sad shrug. “Or maybe a toy lightsaber. That would be fun. Um, wouldn’t it?”

He rose to his feet and paced the length of the coffee table.“Angela, really! Real problems require real solutions, not a cheap childproof standin.”

Rather than pointing out that Pringle’s weapon was also a toy, I remained quiet. It seemed every time I spoke, the rabbit hole I’d fallen down grew deeper and deeper.

The wheels in Octo-Cat’s brain, however, continued to crank. He started and stopped several times before finally saying something that made sense. “You seem to be biased against medieval weapons. How about we turn to the martial arts instead?”

Yes, martial arts. He’d only have as much power as he held within his own paws. That wasn’t so scary. It could actually work.

I nodded vigorously to show him how much I liked that idea.“I’m sure we could sneak you into a dojo so you can learn some self-defense moves.”

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m guessing you know that. I don’t want to dirty my paws on that feral beast. I need a weapon to do it for me, so how about nunchucks?”

“Nunchucks?” I squeaked.

“Yes, I can hold one end in my mouth and swing the other to hit Pringle with,” he explained matter-of-factly.

“Do you promise not to use them on me?”

He glanced toward Charles.

“Or Charles!” I added.

My cat shook his head as if his answer pained him.“Sadly, I can’t promise that, but I can promise I’ll cancel my plans to ransack your bedroom if you agree.”

Wonderful, another bribe.

“Okay, fine. I’ll get you nunchucks if it’s so important to you. Now, tell me, what do you know about Nan’s whereabouts?”

Octo-Cat gave me a Cheshire grin and hopped down from the coffee table.“I don’t know where she went, but I do know how you can find her. If you’ll just follow me please.”

I waved for Charles to come with us, too.

“Why were you and your cat just discussing all those weapons?” he wanted to know.

“Trust me, it’s not that unusual for us.” This was sad because it was true.

“Talking animals are weird.” Charles laughed, but I couldn’t bring myself to—the image of my crazy cat swinging a battle axe was still too fresh in my mind.

Chapter Fourteen

Octo-Cat led us to the backyard where Pringle sat holed up in one of his treehouses watchingSurvivor with the volume turned up to its max.

“Pringle. I brought you a client!” Octo-Cat shouted from the base of the tree.

“We are not clients,” I hissed at the tabby. “I’m more like his landlord.”

A few moments later, the TV clicked off and Pringle stuck his masked face out the window.“Have they brought payment?” he asked, ignoring me and Charles entirely.

“No, but they’re good for it.” Octo-Cat nudged me forward with his paw.

“Excellent,” the raccoon chittered and climbed down with surprising speed to join us on the lawn. He put on a phony grin and reached forward to offer his hand. “Pringle Whisperer, P.I., here. How can I help you today?”

I declined to shake it and instead nodded toward Octo-Cat.“I already paid him to help. I’m not paying you, too.”

“That was my finder’s fee,” the cat corrected. “Pringle Whisperer, P.I., requires his payments to be arranged separately.”

I threw my hands up in the air. How did we ever get anything done around here?“Can we stop wasting time, already? And can’t either of you ever do anything just to be nice for a change?”

Octo-Cat and Pringle laughed for a solid five minutes at that one.

“What’s going on?” Charles asked me, leaning close so I could hear him over the two guffawing animals.

“He wants another bribe, or he won’t help us.”

“Oh, no problem. I’ll take care of it.” Charles took out his wallet and began thumbing through a stack of folded dollar bills. “How much does he need?”

I knew my boyfriend made good money as the senior partner for the region’s busiest law firm, but it surprised me when he didn’t even hesitate to offer a giant wad of cash to our dear raccoon racketeer.

Pringle, however, refused to accept his generous payment.“Sorry, bro. Human money’s no good here.”

“But you can use it to buy things,” I pointed out.

He made a face.“That’s too hard. I’d rather not have to worry about the math. Besides, I’ve never once found a human shop owner willing to sell me what I needed. That’s speciesism, I tell you, and I’m not okay with it.”

“Okay, what do you want then?” And why had my entire day turned into agreeing to give everyone whatever they asked for? With the likes of Pringle and Octo-Cat around, this was a very dangerous proposition, indeed.

“Besides the steak you’ve already promised me and the new friend for Carla, I’ll need—”

“I’m getting nine steaks,” Octo-Cat stopped grooming his coat to brag.

“Cool, cool. Make it nine for me, too,” Pringle confirmed.

“And a lobster roll,” my cat betrayed me once more.

“Sure. I’ll also take that.” The raccoon rubbed his hands together in anticipation of all the tasty things coming his way.

“Stop helping!” I shouted at my cat.

Pringle chittered blissfully.“This is awesome. We should work together more often, my fine feline friend.” He stuck out his hand, and Octo-Cat gave him a high paw.

It was official. My life was over. Dealing with the two of them separately was already hard enough. Them joining forces fell into nightmare territory.

“I’ll also require a new plasma TV,” Pringle added as if it were one last small negotiation and not a gigantic expense.

“I’m out of here!” I stomped away, resigning myself to never finding Nan, Paisley, or the kittens again. There was negotiation and then there was extortion. I would have no part of that.

Pringle scurried in front of me and threw his hands up.“No, wait! It doesn’t have to be plasma, but I do need a television. I really do.”

“You already have one.” I crossed my arms and gave him the stink eye. I may have been a softie, but I was no fool. I’d already bought him his own TV not too long ago.

“What’s he asking for?” Charles wanted to know.

“A TV,” I spat, still reeling from the audacious request.

“Doesn’t he already have one?”

See, even Charles knew.

The raccoon put his hands together and begged.“Please. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t desperately need it.” He was an incredible actor, but he couldn’t summon tears on demand.

I wasn’t buying it. “Why the desperation?”

He hung his head and sniffed.“Because my TV-less treehouse is jealous of my TV-full treehouse.”

I rolled my eyes at that.“Sorry, no. Treehouses don’t have feelings.”

“Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine! I’d like to use my houses more equally but don’t want to spend time away from my show while I do it.”

“That means youdon’t need two treehouses, not that youdo need two TVs,” I explained just as a headache swarmed by brain.

Charles placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.“I know you’re worried about the kittens. Let’s just get to them, okay? I’ll pick up a TV for him later this week.”

Pringle raised his index finger in objection.“Actually, I need it—”

“Later this week,” I interrupted with the best scowl I could muster. “Take it or leave it.”

The raccoon’s whole demeanor softened. “You drive a tough bargain, Angie Russo, but sold! Now how can I help?”

“I need to know where Nan went with Paisley and the kittens.”

“I don’t know where they went, but I can find out.”

“How long will that take?”

“I’ll do it right now. Wait there.” He climbed back into his treehouse and returned with iPad in hand. That was another excessive luxury we’d given him. True, it was Octo-Cat’s old iPad, but why did either of them need their own personal tablet?

Sticking his tongue out while he worked, Pringle tapped the iPad several times, cycling through a number of apps until he found the one he wanted. He turned it toward me, revealing a flashing yellow dot moving along a map.“There. She’s on the highway. Good?”

It was good, but it was also suspicious.“How did you do that?”

“I’ve got high-tech trackers on all of you. If one of you goes somewhere, I can trace your phones to see where it is.” He puffed with obvious pride. “I actually have you to thank for giving me the idea and for letting me use your credit card to purchase the licensing I needed.”

Once again, my privacy had been unforgivably violated by this rascally raccoon. I didn’t know he’d used my credit card for this. Had he used it for other things, too? I clearly needed to keep a better eye on my expenses. I also needed to report my card stolen and to invest in a small safe. I could keep my wallet and electronics locked inside every night to curtail Pringle’s all too pervasive snooping.

Ugh. This was seriously getting out of hand.

Chapter Fifteen

We took a few minutes to set up a family plan on our devices. Once we had it in place, I was able to use Pringle’s sneaky app to track Nan’s location while Charles and I drove after her in pursuit.

“Stay here and call me on FaceTime if she comes back before we do,” I instructed Octo-Cat, who agreed without too much pressure. Hmm. Maybe he felt guilty about driving up Pringle’s payment by sharing what I’d agreed to give him—or maybe he just wanted to avoid the car trip.

Charles placed my phone into the clip on his dashboard and studied the map for a moment before starting up his engine.“She’s got close to a half-hour lead on us, and she’s still driving. “Wherever she went, it’s pretty far.”

I leaned closer to the dash to study the map.“She’s almost made it to Pineville. That’s all the way at the other end of the bay. Maybe she really is running away in a desperate ploy to keep the kittens.”

We turned onto the main road and began the trek toward Pineville.

Charles took a pack of gum from the cupholder and offered me a piece before taking one for himself.“Why would she run away? I mean she has to know she’d eventually need to come back. Right?”

“To bribe me, maybe?” I sat back in my seat and watched the trees pass by my window.

My mean old boyfriend laughed at me.“Man, you’re just letting everyone manipulate you today.”

“Don’t get used to it, and don’t try anything,” I warned in a growl.

He laughed again and turned on the car’s radio. An upbeat pop song danced forth from the speakers, and we sang along in a horrible, notalent duet. It gave us a nice break from all the kitten, cat, raccoon drama back home.

“Look!” I cried, just as we’d finished our third sing-along. “She’s stopping!” I unclipped the phone and zoomed in on the map. “A Donut A Day?” I read the address label aloud. “Why would she drive so far just for some donuts?”

“Maybe A Donut A Day is to donuts as the Little Dog Diner is to lobster rolls. Worth the long drive.”

My stomach growled at the thought of fresh cinnamon donuts straight from the oven. But no, this still didn’t make sense even if it seemed delicious.

I returned the app to navigation mode and clipped it back into the holder.“She prefers to bake her own desserts, though, and she’s never once mentioned this place to me.”

“I’m sure it was just an oversight. Your nan always has a million things going on. It can be hard to keep track.”

“Are you saying she told me and I forgot?” I grumped. “Oh, look! She’s moving again!”

Nan’s dot carried on for a few miles, then stopped again about five minutes later. I zoomed in but couldn’t see any nearby businesses. It seemed Nan had chosen a residential area as her destination.

This time she stayed put until Charles and I were able to catch up.

Charles parked beside the curb behind Nan’s gleaming red Audi. “I feel kind of out of place here,” he mumbled as we both surveyed the neighborhood. Everything was well-kept but tiny—a far cry from my palatial manor home back in Glendale.

We emerged from his luxury sedan while a rusted-up beater rumbled down the road ahead of us.

“Who does Nan know here?” he asked as we watched the other car disappear around the block.

“I have no idea.”

“Well, let’s go find out.”

We held hands as we walked up to the nearest house and pressed the doorbell. An exuberant cacophony of barks greeted us almost instantly—one clearly belonged to our Paisley, but the other was that of a much larger dog. Could this be the same Great Dane she’d bested in wrestling earlier that day?

It was Nan who opened the door. If she was surprised to see us there, she didn’t show it.

“You might as well c’mon in,” she said while a massive furry dog strained to push past her.

“Jasper, get back!” another voice called from inside the house, a much younger voice.

A woman about my age appeared and put the dog in a sit-stay.“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic grin. “We’re still working on Jasper’s doorbell manners. Anyway… You must be Angie.”

Who was this girl? And how did she know me?

“Mommy!” Paisley ran over the moment I stepped through the door and danced on her hindlegs. “Pick me up! Pick me up!”

I did as instructed, still confused out of my mind.

“Sorry. My name’s Sunny. I should have started with that,” the young woman said, letting go of her dog then wiping her hand off on her pantleg before offering it to me in greeting.

I let go of Charles’s hand to accept it.

“Your grandma is friends with my neighbor who’s kind of like a grandma to me and—”

“Just call me Nan, dear,” Nan interjected while fussing with her hair in the hallway mirror. “Everyone else does.”

“This is Charles,” I said, reclaiming Charles’s hand, so thankful we were in this together. “And you’re right, I am Angie. Angie Russo. Um, are the kittens here by any chance?”

“Oh, yes! I was just picking out which one I wanted. It’s so hard. They’re all adorable!” she gushed.

I glanced toward Nan for an explanation.

She just shrugged.“I called my old friend Tilly to see if she knew anyone in need of a kitten, and she put me on to Sunny here.”

As the girl nodded, a strand of dark hair shook loose from her messy braid.“Jasper needs a friend, but I’m afraid our place isn’t quite big enough for a second dog.”

“So you’d like to adopt a kitten?” I asked. How could such a tiny creature be a match for the massive, slobbery guy standing before me?

Sunny’s bright blue eyes flashed with worry. “That’s okay. Isn’t it?”

“Of course, it’s okay! I just wish Nan would have told me before disappearing on us.”

“Sorry about that. I was really excited, which is why she offered to come over straight away.”

“I didn’t even wait for Tilly,” Nan supplied with a wink. “Although I’m still hoping she’ll adopt one of our babies, too.”

Sunny laughed.“I’ll be sure to pass that on. Hey, now that you guys are here, could you help me decide on a kitten?”

“We’d be honored,” Charles answered.

“Do I smell donuts?” I asked Nan before joining Charles, Sunny, and the kittens in the living room. My rumbling stomach was more than ready for a treat.

Chapter Sixteen

We spent the better part of the next hour at Sunny’s. She ultimately chose the only gray kitten of the bunch and then immediately dubbed the little missPrincess Muffin.

While we were on the way out, Paisley confided in me,“I didn’t want to say goodbye to any of my cat puppies.”

I waited until Sunny had shut the door behind us to respond.“I know, sweetie. I am so sorry.”

Much to my surprise, Paisley wagged her tail so hard her whole body shook.“That’s okay, Mommy. I didn’t want to say goodbye, but it made me feel good that Sunny and Jasper are so happy now. Do you think Princess Muffin will like living with them?”

I smiled and reached down to pat Paisley on the back.“I know she will.”

“That’s all any good Mommy can do. Prepare her cat puppies for the world and give them the best opportunities they can.” The little dog’s capacity to love never ceased to amaze me.

“You’re a great mother, Paisley,” I told her.

“You are, too, Mommy.”

A wall of emotion crashed into me, and I couldn’t help but tear up after receiving those tender words from Paisley. Luckily, I always kept a tissue stashed in my pocket during cold and flu season. I drew it out now and used it to wipe at my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked, concerned etched around the edges of his mouth.

“Nothing,” I lied. How could I tell him that maybe I was readier for our future than I thought? Yes. Maybe Icould be a wife and mother someday, because I already helped to raise one wonderful little doggie and one mostly okay cat.

“All right!” Nan waved to us from the driver’s side of her little red sports coupe. “See you crazy kids back at home.”

“Wait!” I trudged across the slushy road after my grandmother. “Why didn’t you tell us where you were going before you left? And why didn’t you answer your phone when we tried calling you?”

“Oh, sorry about that. I silenced it after the bootcamp instructor yelled at another gal for receiving a text alert. Seems I forgot to turn it back on after.”

“But you called Sunny,” I argued.

“No, I calledTilly, then she put me on to Sunny. And I used our landline, dear. Sometimes the simplest option is best.” She rummaged around in her giant handbag until she found her phone and waved it in front me. “See. It’s right here.”

Unsurprisingly, her phone had accumulated so many unread notifications the list of them fell off the screen.

“Give me that.” I grabbed the poor, neglected device from her hands and entered her highly secure passcode,1-2-3-4.

“It looks like you have several texts and missed calls from… um,Diamond Guy?”That was definitely a new one.

Nan blushed and took the phone back.“That’s private.”

“Who’s Diamond Guy?” I teased, unable to suppress the giant smile that spread across my face.

She fluffed her hair, but it did little to distract from the deep blush that had taken over both cheeks.“It’s just a new nickname we’re trying out. After all, he does sell diamonds for a living.”

“Oh my gosh. Is this how you and Mr. Gable flirt?” I broke apart laughing. Nan was usually so brazen with her friendships but acted completely different in her recent flirtations with the local jewelry shop owner.

“Hush up, you,” she clucked. “You and Charles were no better in the start.”

My smile had become stuck on my face.“Aren’t you going to see what he wants?”

She jammed her phone back in her purse while shaking her head.“You know I’m a very private person.”

I laughed right in her face.“Really? Since when?”

“Fine. I’ll call him back now. Happy?” She grabbed her phone again and pressed the CALL button.

“Why not just check your messages?” I suggested as the line continued to ring.

“I don’t have my voicemail set up. Don’t need it, because I have an answering machine—”

“On the land line,” I finished for her. “What about the texts?”

She ended the attempted call. Apparently Mr. Gable didn’t have his voicemail set up, either. Old people are so funny sometimes.

Nan showed me her phone again. She did, indeed, have six new texts from Diamond Guy, but every single one said the same thing:Hello, Dorothy. Please call me when you get the chance.

Jeez.Diamond Guy needed some serious advice on flirting for the modern age. For starters, didn’t he know that my grandmother preferred everyone call her Nan rather than her given name of Dorothy?

“There. That’s done. Now can we please go home?” Nan turned her key over in the ignition to punctuate her request.

“I think Charles and I will just stop by Diamond Guy’s on the way home.” I snickered. “You’re welcome to come with us.”

“Goodbye, dear.” Nan slammed the car door and sped off.

I returned to Charles with that same huge smile on my face.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asked, before giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

“Nan and her boyfriend. They’re just so adorable.”

“I didn’t realize she was seeing anyone.”

“She’s not exactly, but remember all the flirting happening between her and Mr. Gable over New Year’s Eve?”

He chuckled at the memory.“Do I ever.”

“Good, because we need to stop by his store and see him, and I might need your help playing Cupid.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be focusing on the kittens today?”

I shrugged.“We’ve run out of clues as to where they and the blood came from, the vet declared them healthy, and both Nan and Paisley have agreed to find new homes for them. What more can we do at this point?”

He nodded.“But are you sure it’s right to push them? Shouldn’t we let those two get together in their own time?”

I scoffed at this.“Don’t you remember how she was to me before we got together?”

“Oh, right.” He winced, likely recalling how Nan had forced an awkward confrontation between him and my other potential suitor.

“With that in mind, then yes. We should definitely meddle,” he agreed. “Turnabout is fair play and all that. Um, could you give me the address to his shop? I’ve never headed that way from so far out and I’d hate to waste time taking the scenic route.”

“It’s downtown,” I reminded him. I knew he was still relatively new to town, but surely he couldn’t have forgotten that.

“I know, but the GPS likes it better when I give her an exact address.”

I raised an eyebrow in question.“Her?”

“Yeah. Her name is Carla,” he said as if naming his GPS was the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, that’s the same name as…” As my raccoon’s Nerf gun. Awkward. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“Seriously never mind. Anyway, I have the address for you. Are you ready?”

“Shoot.”

“It’s 1385 Third Street. Oh my gosh!” I shouted, practically dropping my phone in my lap from the shock.

Charles glanced about in panic.“What? What?”

“Look at this,” I said thrusting my phone in his face. I’d pulled up the picture of the partially obscured address label and sure enough… we had a match.

Charles got it right away.“That looks an awful lot like the address you just gave me.”

My smile was back and wider than ever.“It does. Doesn’t it?”

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Seventeen

Charles and I completed the drive to downtown Glendale in record time. Of course, neither of us had ever come this way from Pineville so it was easy for us to set a new record.

No sooner had we parked than Nan pulled her little red sports car into the space beside us.

“I hoped you were only kidding about interfering in my love life,” she grumbled, getting out of her car and slamming the door behind her. “Luckily, I decided to come by just in case. You’ll have to make whatever you plan on doing quick, because I’m not leaving those kittens for more than a few minutes.”

I peered in the car window and saw the kittens waiting in the carrier on the passenger side seat. Nan had even left the car running, presumably to keep the heat going for them.

“Let’s go see what Diamond Guy is up to.” Charles offered Nan his arm, but she refused to take it.

“You should have chosen the other guy,” she mumbled in my direction as she stormed off across the parking lot.

Charles and I caught up with her in front of Mr. Gable’s jewelry store, and the three of us entered together with Paisley following close at our heels.

“Hello, Dorothy!” Mr. Gable waved from behind the counter. “Hi, Angie. Charles.”

We all said our hellos, and then the shopkeeper returned to his customers.

A mother-son pair stood before him examining engagement rings and occasionally asking to see one closer up.

“Congrats,” Charles told the son who had rusty red hair and appeared to be somewhere in his mid-thirties.

The other man’s skin turned a ruddy shade of red. “Not me.” He jammed a finger his mother’s direction. “Her.”

His mother beamed at me and Charles.“Isn’t it so great to finally find the one?” she asked us.

Charles pulled me to his side and gave me a kiss on the cheek, which made the newly engaged woman swoon with delight.

“We’re just finishing up here, if you could give me a few more minutes,” Mr. Gable said, his eyes focused only on Nan as they blinked an apology.

“I like it here,” Paisley barked, drawing the engaged woman’s attention.

“Oh my goodness. What an angel!” She dropped to her haunches and accepted excited kisses from the hyper Chihuahua.

“Mom,” the woman’s son nudged her impatiently. “That’s not what we’re here for.”

“Oh, stop. The ring will wait. Give me a minute to say hello.”

He sighed, but his mother didn’t seem too bothered by it.

Mr. Gable used this opportunity to extricate himself from behind the counter.“Hello,” he said to both me and Charles before saddling Nan with a giant hug. “What brings all three of you in? Is this about the kittens I left on your porch this morning?”

Ah-ha! I knew it!

Nan blinked in confusion. We hadn’t yet gotten the chance to catch her up on the address label match-up.“You left them?”

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to clean them up. When I called, you didn’t answer. I was in a hurry to get back for a customer appointment. I figured if anyone would know what to do with them, it would be you two.”

“Wait.” The female customer stopped petting Paisley and rose back to a standing position. “There are kittens?” she whispered reverently.

“Mom, we need to focus on—”

“Oh, shush. You’re not the one who gets to make the rules.” She waved him off, then approached us with wide, shining eyes. “So about those kittens?”

“Would you like to meet them?” Nan asked with a chuckle. “I left them in the car for a minute. Didn’t expect to be here long.”

“It sounds like the perfect wedding gift. My fianc? John is quite the animal lover but hasn’t been able to keep any pets in his apartment.”

Her son tugged at her sleeve in a gesture reminiscent of a much younger child.“But, Mom, I’m allergic to cats.”

“Then I guess it’s finally time for you to move out and establish your own home,” she told him with a pointed glare.

“I’ll just go get them,” Nan said before sweeping back into the cold outside.

The woman followed after Nan and her son followed after her.

“Where did the kittens come from?” I asked Mr. Gable, eager to finally get the answers I’d craved all day. “And why were they covered in blood?

“A frightening sight. Wasn’t it?” He shook his head and spoke in the direction of his feet. “I found them in the alley when I was walking in to work.”

“The one just outside?” Charles asked, picking up Paisley and allowing her to lick his face.

“Not this one, no. I like to park in the far lot to get a bit of exercise. Plus the fresh air helps wake me up in the mornings. When I spotted the kittens, I picked up the pace, grabbed a box and left a note on the door to let my customers know I’d be a few minutes late opening today, then I went back to get the kittens and drove them straight over to your place. I tried calling Dorothy, but…” He shrugged again.

“I know. She’s had her phone off all day.”

“Speaking of Nan,” Charles edged in. “I’ve heard she’s looking for a plus-one on Valentine’s Day.”

The old jeweler’s breathing suddenly became labored. I half-expected him to a pull an inhaler from his pocket and take a hit. “Is that so? A plus-one for what?”

“Well, actually she doesn’t,” I began to explain.

Charles squeezed my hand to get me to stop.

He cleared his throat.“It’s a beautiful evening she has planned. It starts with an intimate hike along the coastline. After about half an hour, you’ll find yourselves at a secluded ice castle built especially just for the two of you. You’ll have just enough time for a quick snowball fight before a private chef will treat you to a freshly prepared meal suited perfectly to your individual tastes. Finally, the night will end with dancing under the stars to a string quartet playing only the greatest ‘80s hits.”

Mr. Gable looked like he might be moved to cry.“That sounds wonderful. She did all that for me?”

Charles squeezed my hand again.“She did, but I think she’s nervous to make things official by asking you to accompany her. You should do the honors.”

I gave an encouraging nod.“Yeah, I bet she’d say yes.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” Mr. Gable promised.

We made small talk with Mr. Gable as we waited for Nan, Paisley, and the customers to return. I knew Charles had planned that date for me, and as amazing as that special evening sounded, it meant even more to me that he’d given it all up to help two elderly people start their own love story.

Boy, did I have a keeper or what?

Chapter Eighteen

The woman in the jewelry store ended up adopting two of the kittens, a boy and a girl. She and Nan exchanged phone numbers, and she also promised to text updates and pictures every single day.

That meant we only had two of the original five kittens left with us now, one boy and one girl. At the rate things were going, we’d probably have homes for them by nightfall.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone in need of their own personal feline overlord. Would you?” I asked Mr. Gable once mother, son, and kittens had departed.

He sighed.“I wish I could take them off your hands, but I fear E.B. would never forgive me.”

I’d met his pet rabbit, E.B., and knew Mr. Gable was definitely correct in his assessment. The poor little mite was afraid of any and everything, especially predators like cats.

“Well…” Nan shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “We should probably be off,” she told the ground.

Charles exchanged a meaningful glance with Mr. Gable, while I clasped my hands and waited for the magic to happen.

“Dorothy?” Mr. Gable said, causing her to look up.

She lifted Paisley from the floor and nuzzled the little dog to her chest, using Paisley as her own personal security blanket. All this shyness was so unlike my grandmother!

“Yes, Grant?” she mumbled into Paisley’s fur after taking one slow, steady breath.

His voice quavered as he asked,“Would you like to spend Valentine’s Day together?”

Nan jerked her head a little.“Sure. You mean, as friends?”

No, Nan! No! I wanted to shout but didn’t.

Mr. Gable shot an anxious glance Charles’s way, who nodded his encouragement.

“No,” the nervous shopkeeper said at last. “I meant as in a date. Our first date.”

Nan blushed as she continued to stroke Paisley for a couple silent moments. At last, a smile blossomed on her face.“I’d like that,” she declared just like the heroine always did in old-timey movies.

“Me, too,” Mr. Gable said. He looked as if he’d just won first prize in life. In a way, he had. As trying as my nan could sometimes be, she was still my very favorite person in the entire world. I couldn’t blame the besotted jeweler for feeling the same way.

“I should be going now, though.” Nan backed away, accidentally bumping into one of the jewelry counters in the process.

“See you soon, Mr. Gable!” I called while pushing my clumsy nan toward the exit. “Bye!”

Once outside, Nan straightened her back and ran her fingers through her hair.“Well, that was rather unexpected.”

“Was it, though?” I teased, making my voice high and sarcastic. “You were just telling me this morning that you enrolled in booty boot camp precisely because Mr. Gable—”

“Angie!” Nan shouted and gave me a light slap on the arm. “That’s private! Besides I don’t want Grant to overhear that.”

“What does booty boot camp have to do with Mr. Gable?” Paisley asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” I whispered while scratching her head.

“Are we going home now?” the Chihuahua asked as we all moved toward the parking lot.

“You, Nan, and the kittens are,” I answered. “Charles and I still have a bit of work left to do here.”

“Okay, byeeeee!” she sang as Nan practically floated away.

Charles turned to me once we’d seen Nan and the animals off and asked, “The blood?”

I nodded.“Mr. Gable told us where he found it and the kittens. Now all we have to do is go take a look for ourselves.”

He motioned for me to go ahead.“Lead the way,” he said, placing his hand at the small of my back.

Downtown Glendale wasn’t very large, which meant it took us less than ten minutes to reach the other end. From the far parking lot, we headed toward the nearest alley.

“We probably should have kept Paisley with us,” I admitted, kicking myself for not realizing that earlier. “She’d have been able to sniff this out for us in a heartbeat.”

Charles paused midstep.“Should we go get her?”

“Nah.We just have to trace and retrace our steps until something turns up.”

“What are we looking for exactly? Bloody pawprints?”

I kept my eyes on the ground before me, studying it closely so I wouldn’t miss anything. “Yeah, that’s probably our best bet.”

“Look there.” He pointed toward a big green dumpster that hadn’t been properly sealed to keep animals out. Not only were there little red pawprints at the base, but something inside created an ominous rustling sound as soon as I locked eyes on the dumpster.

“Stay back,” Charles warned me, putting his arm out to stop me before continuing forward. It was nice he wanted to protect me, but Charles was forgetting one very important piece of information here—Iwas the one who could talk to animals.

“Who’s in there?” I called. It had already been a very long winter, and the local wildlife often got desperate as the cold months continued to bear down on the region.

For all I knew, there could be a fox, coyote, lynx, or some other kind of potentially dangerous predator in there. I’d never spoken to any members of those species, so didn’t know how easy—or how difficult—they might be to negotiate with. And that worried me.

“Hellooooo!” I called again. “You in the dumpster. Come out and nobody gets hurt.”

Of course, I would never hurt an animal, but I needed some kind of leverage if I were to protect Charles.

A large raggedy looking dog popped his head out of the dumpster. His wiry coat was also matted with blood around the muzzle.“Don’t hurt me,” he whined. “I was only trying to grab a quick bite.”

Relieved, I closed the distance between myself and the dumpster.“My name’s Angie. What’s yours?”

When the dog whimpered, his half-cocked ears went back against his head.“I don’t have a name. You need a home to have a name, and I’ve never had one of those.”

“I could give you one if you’d like,” I offered with a gentle voice. The poor thing.

“A home?” he squeaked in surprise. “I would love nothing more.”

“I meant a name, but I suppose I can find you a home, too. First can you help me with something?”

“Anything,” he barked excitedly, his tongue now lolling from the side of his mouth.

“What are you eating in there?” I asked, craning my neck but failing to see into the dumpster.

“I’ll show you!” he shouted, then dived back into the dumpster and tossed a bloody carcass in my direction. Luckily, it missed hitting me.

“Ewww. What is that?”

“Not ewww.Yum.” The stray dog licked his chops.“I hardly ever find something this good to eat.”

“What is it?” I asked in disgust. As much as I liked to be polite, it was hard to ignore the churning in my stomach at the smell and sight of his half-eaten meal.

“Looks like some kind of roadkill,” Charles said.

“Why is it in the dumpster?”

“Good question. Do you think this is what the kittens got into before Mr. Gable found them?”

“Kittens? You mean cat puppies?” the dog asked, tilting his head to one side and studying us with teary, dark brown eyes.

“Yes, cat puppies,” I confirmed with a smile.

“They were the ones who first found this delicious feast, but then some man took them away before they could finish, and I took over.”

There.

That was the last piece we’d needed to piece together the entire story of the mysterious doorstep kittens. No wonder they had been so hungry. Their first meal in who-knows-how-long had been interrupted.

“Thanks for your help,” I told the dog and then added, “By the way, how do you like the name Digger? You know, because when I first met you, you were digging in the trash?”

“It’s perfect!” he barked enthusiastically. “I’m part Airedale terrier on my mother’s side, and—boy—do our kind love to dig.”

A nameless stray no more, he jumped out of the dumpster and trotted to my side, his tail wagging mightily with each step.

“Then it’s definitely perfect.” I patted him between the ears as they appeared to be the cleanest part of him. “Hi, Digger. It’s nice to meet you. Now come with us, and we’ll see what we can do about finding you a home.”

Chapter Nineteen

Luckily, Mr. Gable had a tarp leftover from when he’d painted his shop that summer. He was also more than happy to lend it to us so that we could take Digger back to my house while avoiding the spread of blood, dirt, and trash all over the back seat of my car.

Paisley immediately took the new, much larger dog under her wing. She came running straight up to him and stood on her hindlegs to complete the requisite butt sniff.

“Hi. My name’s Paisley!” she shouted while allowing him to bend down and sniff hers.

“My name’s Digger,” the other dog answered proudly, finally having a name to share.

“I will teach you everything about being a pet!” Paisley promised, then she and Digger disappeared outside. Digger didn’t fit through our pet door, so I had to open the human door to let him out.

“Where are the kittens?” I asked Nan, surprised they weren’t in the living room with her.

“Upstairs with Octavius in the fish room,” she answered casually between sips of tea.

“Don’t let him hear you call it that,” I warned with a quick eyeroll. “Have you found any of the other kittens homes yet?”

“Not yet, but I may have a couple leads.” She smiled over the rim of her teacup before taking another slow sip.

“Think you could find one for Digger, too?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised, setting her cup back on the table. “Would you like some tea, too, dear?”

I shook my head.“No, thanks.”

“Not you.” She turned to my boyfriend. “You. How about it?”

“I’m not really—”

“Oh, come now. You and I need to have a little chat,” she pressed, already up and heading toward the kitchen.

Understanding that I’d been dismissed, I headed up the stairs and let myself into Octo-Cat’s room. I needed to check on the kittens, anyway.

The vision that greeted me practically took my breath away. Our two remaining kittens lay snuggled up against Octo-Cat as all three cats napped.

I was just about to turn around and head out, when Octo-Cat’s wide amber eyes blinked open and he whispered, “Wait.”

He carefully extricated himself from his slumber companions without waking either.“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he told me once he’d successfully come to stand by my side. “Let’s go out into the hall.”

“What’s up?” I asked curiously

“Those little guys aren’t so bad, you know. It was hard when they first got here and were pouncing everywhere, but truth be told I’ve liked having them around,” he revealed with a wistful sigh.

“Are you saying you want to keep them?”

He hissed at this.“Eeeesh, no! Nothing so extreme. But having them here reminded me of my own kittenhood. Have I told you that I was one of seven?”

“You may have mentioned it a time or two.” Or twenty.

“Today has got me thinking about my own brothers and sisters. I haven’t seen them since Ethel adopted me all those years ago.”

“You must miss them.” I ran my hand along his back, hoping he’d appreciate the comfort of the gesture rather than attacking me for it.

He leaned into my hand and purred.“Yes and no. I’m definitely happier being an only cat, but I do wonder if they turned out as awesome as I have.”

“So you want to track them down?”

My cat nodded.“I think I do.”

“I guess it makes sense to use our P.I. skills to help ourselves every once in a while.”

He smiled and gave me a paws up.“Exactly.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep one of the kittens?” I tried again. I liked seeing this softer side of him. Maybe having a long-term kitty companion would help him mellow out.

He shuddered and turned his backside to me.“Completely.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you get back to your cat nap, then.”

“Thank you, Angela,” he said before running back through the door I’d just opened. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to find his long-lost family. After all, I was still trying to do the same thing for myself—and finally meeting my cousin Mags had definitely changed my life for the better.

Knowing now that the kittens were in good paws with Octo-Cat, I headed back downstairs to ask Charles for a quick favor.

“Would you mind heading to the store for me? I need large dog breed food and some steak.”

He took one last slurp from his tea, then asked,“How much steak?”

I made a tally in my head.“Um, twenty-two should do it.”

Charles laughed.“Time to pay your debts, I see.”

“Yes, and if you happen to find a TV, Nerf gun, or nunchucks while you’re there, you know what to do.”

“What about the lobster rolls?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Those can wait for a few days. We’re having steak for dinner tonight.”

While Charles was at the store, I planned to give Digger a bath, but first I needed a short break so that I could catch my breath. I took a seat by Nan, who was busy typing into her phone and smiling like a fool in love.

“Let me guess. Diamond Guy?” I teased.

Nan clucked her tongue.“I have much more going on in my life than that,” she chided.

“Still it must be pretty exciting to have your first date on the calendar at last?”

Nan frowned for a few seconds before transitioning back into a smile.“I only wish I would have had a few more sessions of booty boot camp first, but—yes—I am very excited.”

“If you’re not talking to Mr. Gable, then who are you texting?” I said, trying to catch a glimpse of her screen. “You’re not cheating on him already?”

She looked sad rather than angry.“Oh, dear. I am many things, but a cheater, I am not. You should know me better than that.”

“Well?” I prompted when she still hadn’t answered my first question. “Who are you chatting with, then?”

She rolled her eyes.“You’re so nosey sometimes. You know that?”

“I learned it from the best.” I winked, and she winked back.

“That was my good friend, Gertie.”

Ahh, Gertie. I’d never actually met her, but I’d taken several jogs with her muttsky Cujo. Cujo had also helped to save my life last month, so he rated very high in my books and so did his owner, Gertie.

Nan continued along.“Remember how she was having trouble exercising Cujo since her grandkids went off to college?”

I nodded.

“I’ve just suggested she adopt a playmate for him. You and I will keep exercising Cujo as we do, but a second dog could give him some nice company during the day. Wouldn’t you say?”

I gasped with excitement.“Digger?”

“Digger,” she confirmed.

“That’s great,” I cried and gave her a tight hug.

“I also have a lead on a home for the last two kittens,” Nan revealed. Man, she was good at this. Perhaps she should volunteer at the local animal shelter for more than just fundraising events.

“Really? Who?” I asked, so happy for all the animals who’d found new homes that day.

She shook her head and wagged a finger at me.“I don’t want to say until it’s a sure thing, but I promise to tell you as soon as I can.”

I stretched my arms overhead, then forced myself to my feet.“I better get Digger in the bath.”

“Before you go, I take back what I said.”

I stared at her blankly.“Take back what?”

“I’m really glad you chose Charles. He’s a good man.”

“You know,” I stated, referring to the fact that Charles had so willingly given up his special Valentine’s surprise in order to offer it to Nan and Mr. Gable.

She nodded.“Thank you both for that. Although if it’s not too late, I might ask the string quartet to play something other than ‘80s covers.”

Chapter Twenty

After our twenty-two-steak dinner, Charles said goodbye and headed back to his house. I felt bad that our“relaxing” day together had become so hectic and that he’d also sacrificed his big Valentine’s surprise, but I vowed to make up for it by planning a few special surprises of my own.

By the time Friday rolled around, I had my work cut out for me.

I started with a quick good morning call to Charles, who would be working until early evening. I spent the morning with Nan and Paisley until they departed for one of her community art classes.

The last two kittens had gone to their new homes the night before, which meant Octo-Cat and I had the house to ourselves for the next few hours.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I crooned as I placed a giant box onto the floor in front of him.

His eyes lit up as he beheld the cardboard behemoth.“For me?” he gasped with obvious delight.

“Yup. And there’s even a surpriseinside the box.”

He raised a paw to his chest.“Double presents? I’m touched.”

It had been so hard to keep this surprise from him for the last few days, and I couldn’t wait another minute for the big reveal. “Well, go on and open it up,” I urged.

Octo-Cat jumped into the box, then popped his head back out with a satin blue swatch of fabric clenched between his jaws.“What is it?” he mumbled, unsure.

“It’s a bowtie,” I explained. “I figured you could wear it on your video date with Grizabella this afternoon.”

“It matches her beautiful sapphire eyes,” he said after setting it carefully on the floor.

“Yes, it does. And if you take another look inside, you’ll find a green bowtie as well.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, then cocked his head slightly to the side—a sure sign that Paisley was beginning to rub off on him just a little bit.

“Why green?” he asked.

I put a hand over my smiling mouth and waited for it to sink in.

Octo-Cat swooned with delight less than a minute later.“Green. Glorious green! Does this mean…?”

I picked up where he left off.“Yes, I’m taking you to visit Grizabella for St. Patrick’s Day. That is, if you still want to go.”

He zipped up and down the stairs in a rare show of kitty zoomies, then came back to rest at my feet. I reached out to pet him, but before I could, he licked my fingertips.“You are a very good human, and I love you, Angela.”

I stroked his soft back.“Awww, I love you, too. Now are you ready to FaceTime with Grizabella?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

I fastened the blue bowtie to his collar and showed him what he looked like in the selfie mode of my phone.“I am a very handsome cat. Aren’t I?”

I nodded my endorsement.“Grizabella is very lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said sweetly before zooming away to call his girlfriend.

My heart melted a little at that. Getting love from any cat—but especially Octo-Cat—was a rare treat, and I planned to savor every single second.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

At five o’clock on the dot, I pulled into the parking lot outside Charles’s law firm. He wasn’t expecting me, but that was part of the surprise.

It felt strange being back in the location where our love story had first begun—and also where I’d almost died and then woke up with the strange ability to talk to Octo-Cat. Yes, Longfellow& Associates had given me so much during my brief tenure there—love, friendship, a cat, a home, and access to an impressive trust fund—and for all of it, I would forever be grateful.

But today wasn’t about the associates, it was about Charles Longfellow, III, and me.

When he saw me enter the office, he jumped up from his desk and wrapped me in his arms.“What are you doing here? I was just about to sign off for the day and come to see you.”

“Kidnapping you. Now let’s go.”

“Sure. Just let me turn off—”

“Nope. Just lock the door and come with me. There’s no time to waste.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

We settled into my car, and I began the drive.

“Where are we going?” he asked me with an enormous grin.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes straight ahead.“It’s not as fancy as what you had planned, but it’s very us.”

“Tell me. Tell me!” he whined playfully.

I took a deep breath and shook my head.“I won’t tell you what we’re doing, but I’ll explain why.”

“Okay, hit me.”

I licked my lips before continuing. I’d practiced this a couple times but still worried it would come out wrong.

“Well, we first met at the law firm, which is why we started there today. A lot of people meet at work, but our relationship has always been a bit different as you so rightly pointed out last weekend. And even though you’d wanted to spend a relaxing, romantic day together, we ended up spending that day in a veryus way—by throwing all our plans out the window and then helping those who needed it most. Think about it. When we first became friends, we got Brock Calhoun acquitted for murder and reunited a lost, little dog with his human. When we first became more, we saved Octo-Cat from a kidnapper and protected his trust fund from angry relatives. Last weekend, we ended up finding five abandoned kittens and one stray dog their forever homes.”

Charles nodded along, then frowned.“Yes. I guess you’re right about that. Do you ever wish we spent more time doing normal boyfriend-girlfriend stuff?”

“No way!” I protested. “I love you, and I love us. Exactly as we are.”

“I love you, too.” He squeezed my shoulder and leaned in to plant a kiss on my cheek, then asked, “So what are we doing for Valentine’s Day?”

“Haha, nice try,” I teased. “Don’t worry, though. We’re almost there.”

Ten minutes later, we arrived at our very favorite restaurant, the Little Dog Diner all the way over in Misty Harbor.

“This restaurant has always been special to us, too,” Charles observed as we approached the entrance hand in hand. “Remember when we came here after catching the real Hayes murderer?”

“I do. And do you remember who came with us?”

Just then we caught sight of Nan, Mr. Gable, and my parents as they waved from a big booth by the window.

Charles turned to me with a curious look.“I thought Nan and Grant were going on the date I’d originally planned for us.”

I squeezed his hand and rested my head on his shoulder for a moment.“Remember about helping people in need? Those two are still too nervous to be alone together, so we’re going to help break the ice. And you know another thing about us? We love to be with the people we love, so why not be with them on Valentine’s Day? Well, for a little while, at least.”

“We’re just staying for a quick drink.” My mom looked ravaging in a pink cable-knit sweater. I swear, only she could look glamorous in such simple winter attire. She gave me a tight hug and then kissed me on either cheek.

“Thank you again for setting up the ice castle dinner for us,” my father said, giving my boyfriend a manly hug and several fast pats on the back.

“We’re sharing,” I revealed the favorite part of my plan with a smile. “My parents are doing the dinner, and you and I get the string quartet.”

Charles laughed, and I jabbed him in the ribs.

“What? You think I’m going to pass-up a romantic starlight dance to all my favorite ‘80s classics?”

“No, I know you better than that.” After a moment, he asked, “You said that we were sharing the date I’d planned. What part do Nan and Grant get?”

“They’re going to have the snowball fight, of course. They need something more light-hearted to help them get comfortable dating again. It’s been a long time for both of them.” I eyed the new couple, glad to see they were holding hands across the booth. Maybe they didn’t need quite as much help as I’d expected.

“Take a seat, you two,” Nan urged, motioning for Charles and me to slide into the large booth with one hand while still hanging tight to Mr. Gable’s hand with the other.

The waitress came over and handed out waters all around.“I see the rest of your party has arrived. Are you ready to order?”

“Four lobster rolls for here and two to go,” I said as my mouth began to water in anticipation.

“Oh, that’s nice, sweetie,” Mom said, “But your dad and I don’t need anything to take home.”

“So just four for here?” the waitress asked, her pen raised over the little Steno pad in her grip.

“And two to go,” I confirmed with a sharp nod.

After she’d left, I whispered to Mom, “They’re not for you. They’re for paying the rest of my debts to a certain cat and his raccoon friend.”

12. LEGAL SEAGULL

Chapter One

It all started with a coffee maker that should have been tossed into the dumpster years ago. One fated zap from that thing, and I reawakened with the strange ability to speak with animals.

Ever since then, my life has been full of four-legged chatter. You’d think being able to understand animals would mean that I’d know more about the world around me, but instead I find myself knowing less and less as I’m tossed into one mystery after the other.

I guess that’s why I set up shop as a private investigator…

Oh, hi. My name’s Angie Russo, and I’d be remiss not to mention that my partner in solving crime is none other than my tabby cat, Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq, P.I. And much to his chagrin, I’ve taken to calling him Octo-Cat for short.

When Octo-Cat entered my life, he brought the first of many mysteries and a giant trust fund from his previous owner, for which I am now the guarantor. It pays our monthly bills and then some—including the giant Blueberry Bay manor house that he tricked me into buying. It’s a good thing his previous owner hooked us up because we’ve earned exactly zero dollars for our investigative efforts to date.

My grandmother, Nan, lives with us and uses her retirement funds to pitch in, even though I tell her not to. She keeps our kitchen stocked with fresh baked goods and our walls decorated with all kinds of quirky homemade art projects—yeah, she’s worked in everything from metal to hand-spun silk. She’s a bit of a character, but we can always count on Nan to keep things interesting for us all.

Another roommate of ours is Paisley, the mostly black tricolor Chihuahua Nan rescued from the shelter last year. Paisley is an unfailing optimist and eternal source of joy. She makes a strong contrast to our backyard neighbor, Pringle the unrelentingly irritating and frequently villainous raccoon.

You probably won’t believe me, but everything I’m about to tell you is true about Pringle. He has two treehouses with two big-screen TVs. He also has zero regard for anyone’s privacy, especially mine. I’ve recently caught him snooping on my phone and even recording a video of me for submission to his favorite reality show. Ugh, I know. Here’s hoping I don’t get selected for that particular unwanted privilege.

My parents work in news, and my boyfriend Charles is the senior partner at the law firm where I used to work before giving up the glamorous paralegal life to become a full-time P.I… Or if you were to ask Pringle, “full-time unemployed.”

I realize the raccoon must seem like an all-around horrible neighbor based on my descriptions so far, but in truth, I just think he’s cranky. After all, he’s the only one around here who hasn’t found love.

That’s right.

Nan is now seeing the local jeweler, Grant Gable, and they are just adorable together. Meanwhile I’ve got Charles, and my parents have each other. Even Octo-Cat maintains a very serious long-distance relationship with minor Instagram influencer and former show cat Grizabella the gorgeous Himalayan.

True, Paisley is without any romantic attachment, but that doesn’t bother the spritely pup one bit. Mostly because things rarely ever do.

Even though Pringle won’t admit to being lovelorn, he has taken to calling his Nerf gun “Carla” and stroking it lovingly whenever he thinks no one is looking.

Things have gotten so out of hand with that Nerf gun of his that I’ve now inadvertently agreed to let my cat wield nunchucks to protect himself—and, in theory, me. This has only led to more slapstick violence and a fair number of bruised shins on my part.

He’s really not good with them.

Probably because he has to keep one part in his mouth while swinging the other as he stands on his hind legs and awkwardly twists his neck to the side. I think he’s actually hurt himself more than he’s managed to get me and Pringle.

I also don’t think either of them needs a weapon to navigate our daily suburban life, but maybe that’s just me.

Thankfully, I’ll be getting a break from trigger-happy Pringle this week as I take Octo-Cat on a cross-country road trip to visit his beloved Grizabella in Colorado. Yes, it’s a long drive from Maine, but Nan is coming along to share it with me, seeing as Octo-Cat still refuses to get on a plane.

Also, the last time we took a train, we wound up with a murder on our hands, so driving just felt like a better way to go this time around.

We’re leaving bright and early the day after tomorrow, and as much as I initially didn’t want to take this trip, I’m looking forward to the reprieve from everyday life.

Let’s just hope nothing too crazy happens before then…

Famous last words. Am I right?

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

I’d just settled into my favorite window seat with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and my eReader in the other when Octo-Cat came sauntering into the room, a single sheet of lined paper hanging from his mouth.

“Eeeh muh et,” he mumbled in my direction, his tail already flicking wildly even though I’d not yet done anything to disappoint him.

“Whatever it is, can it wait until later?” I asked. Unfortunately, I already knew what his answer would be.

He spat the paper onto the floor and glared at me with those unsettling amber eyes of his.“No. It can’t wait. We’re almost out of time as it is. Pick that up,” he commanded with a sneer.

I set my eReader down on the bench seat and walked my coffee over to my desk, then returned to grab the paper my cat had presented to me so unceremoniously.

Octo-Cat plopped onto his butt and watched with obvious disdain, but that was life with a cat for you.“That’s my list of necessities.”

I turned the paper over in my hands, then shook my head.“But it’s blank.”

“You better get writing then,” Octo-Cat said with a triple flick of his tail before launching into his long-winded soliloquy. “First I’ll need my bowties, both green and blue. I also need a new one that’s gold to match my eyes.”

“But your eyes aren’t—”

“Are you writing this down?” he snapped with a scowl that brooked no further argument.

Right.

I raced to my desk as he continued to rattle off his demands. With a red ink pen now in hand, I scrawled furiously but just couldn’t keep up. “A copy of Dr. Roman’s Guide to… um… Could you repeat that, please?”

My cat groaned, proving I’d disappointed him yet again. “Dr. Roman’s Guide to Romance. In audio. Pay attention.”

Ten minutes later, Octo-Cat had finally finished dictating his list. It filled both sides of the paper he’d brought me, and I’d even had to resort to scribbling the last few items on the back of my hand.

Well, it looked like I had my work cut out for me—and my day stolen from me.

“Are you sure you need all of this for our trip?” I asked in disbelief. “Some of this isn’t exactly easy to find.”

Octo-Cat nodded pertly.“I’m sure.”

“But—”

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He turned tail and sauntered away.

Remind me again why I was doing this huge nice thing for him when he couldn’t even bother to be the tiniest bit grateful?

It was like the more time I spent with my cat, the less I actually understood him. Maybe this road trip wouldn’t be so relaxing, after all.

Chapter Two

Fortunately, Nan agreed to take half of Octo-Cat’s giant list off my hands, which meant I’d actually have a few hours to get things packed and ready for myself before falling into bed in an exhausted heap that night.

As it was, I’d already been out running errands for several hours. And since nothing could ever be easy when it came to Octo-Cat, his requirements took me to shops scattered all around Blueberry Bay.

I’d saved Dewdrop Springs for last, seeing as it wasn’t exactly my favorite place to visit. In fact, it seemed every time I set foot in that wretched little town, somebody got murdered or robbed or bribed or embezzled. Fun.

Me? I just wanted to get my cat his audiobook and get home.

Of course, the title he’d requested had proven to be this season’s hottest new release. How had I not heard of it before now? Probably because I didn’t need any help in the romance department.

I was surprised Octo-Cat believed that he did. Normally he thought of himself as perfectly infallible. Further proof this upcoming visit with Grizabella meant the world to him. They hadn’t seen each other in-furson since they’d first met on the train in late November. How would they feel when they were together outside of their usual video chat setting?

As much as he annoyed me today—and, let’s be honest here, every day—I really hoped things went well for him… Even though I was now at my third bookstore.

As it turned out, both of the big box bookstores I’d tried had been sold out of Dr. Roman’s hot new release, meaning I needed to hop over the nearest independent bookstore and pray they had a copy.

When I’d called home to suggest an Audible subscription, he hung up without even speaking to me. When I called back, he groaned and slowly explained that he must absolutely have his book on CD because he didn’t trust an MP3 download not to “disappear from his device when he needed it most.”

Again, this was a self-help romance guide. What emergency could it possibly aid in? I knew better than to ask any clarifying questions, though.

Instead I swallowed any last vestiges of pride I’d once had and vowed to do whatever it took to keep my spoiled cat happy. That brought me to Tattered Pages, a hole-in-the-wall indie shop that had recently changed hands in favor of a much younger proprietress. I hadn’t been into the shop for years, preferring my eReader to page-and-ink. I was surprised to see how much it had changed since my last visit. With a comfy lounge area, cafe, and beautifully organized shelves, I had to hand it to the new owner—the place looked great.

Maybe I would be back to get something for myself once this big road trip was over.

“Hi. I’m Dakota. Can I help you?” a woman with bright probing eyes interrupted my thoughts by offering a huge smile as she marched my way.

“Oh, hi. I’m looking for an audiobook?” My voice went up at the end even though I hadn’t meant to ask a question.

Dakota scrunched her nose as she thought, then raised one index finger and pointed two aisles down.“I’ve got just the thing for you.”

I followed her wordlessly to a selection of Jeffrey Deaver books.

“You look like a mystery reader,” she informed me. “Am I right?”

Impressive.

“Normally, yes, but I’m actually here to pick up something for my, um, friend. Do you have Dr. Roman’s Guide to—?”

“Romance. Yes, I think we have one copy left.” Dakota led me to the opposite side of the store and began to rummage through a spinning wire rack. “It was here just a… Ah! Gotcha!”

She grabbed the requested audiobook out from behind another.“Messy, messy. Good thing I knew it was still here.”

“Thank you so much,” I said with a huge sigh of relief. My go-for work was now officially done.

Dakota waved goodbye from behind the counter after checking me out.“Make sure to come back another time and get some books for you!”

Yeah, I’d still try to avoid Dewdrop Springs as much as I possibly could, but now I could at least treat myself to a quick book shop visit next time I was in town.

Pleased with my ability to find the silver lining, I pushed through the door and out onto the street.

“No! I almost had him!” someone cried from beneath me.

I whipped around to find a fluffy orange Persian staring up at me with angry eyes.“Sorry,” I murmured as I paced down the block in search of my car. I hadn’t parked far, but—

“Wait, wait, wait!” that same voice followed me, growing closer with each syllable.

I stopped and turned toward her.

“You can understand me?” the cat asked, her mouth hanging open in awe. “Why can’t my useless human understand me, then?”

“Yes, and I don’t know,” I murmured, hoping nobody was around to see me talking to this strange cat in the middle of the very public street.

“My name’s Poppy, and I have some demands,” the Persian informed me.

Boy, was this familiar. Octo-Cat had said almost the exact same thing to me when he first learned I could talk to him, and he hadn’t stopped giving demands since.

I had no time to cater to the whims of an unfamiliar cat, so I mumbled my apologies and resumed searching for my car.

“Wait!” Poppy yelled at the top of her lungs. “Don’t leave yet!”

Her pleas weren’t enough to stop me a second time, though.

She growled and threw a hissy fit, but I still didn’t stop. “I’m not done with you. You better come back!”

I finally reached my car and slammed the door behind me. Just as I was frantically jamming my key in the ignition, something big thumped into the windshield right in front of me.

Ergh. That cat had better—

But, no, it wasn’t Poppy. Instead I was met with a wiggling white blob.

A bird.

Oh, no.

The orange Persian jumped onto the hood of my old sedan with a thud and stalked toward her disoriented prey.

Panicked, I did the first thing I could think of. I hit the horn on my car, which sent the feline running for cover.

The bird—who turned out to be a seagull—righted himself and then tapped on my windshield with his beak. “Might I have a quick word?”

Even though I still didn’t have time for any distractions, I rolled my window down and allowed him to join me in the car. Maybe I could drive him somewhere safer, somewhere far away from the overly worked-up feline.

“You are a tough one to track down,” the bird said once he’d settled himself on my passenger seat. “I’ve been all over the region chasing after you today.”

“Chasing after me? Why?”

“I’ve always kept tabs on you. Ever since the beginning.”

I felt a headache coming on.“The beginning of what?”

“Of you being able to understand us. We watch humans like you in case we ever need to call on a favor.”

My mind swirled with this new information. Yes, a bird needed a favor from me, but more importantly, there were others like me. I’d always hoped, but I’d never known for sure.

“Can you take me to meet the others?” I asked, my voice shaking. I didn’t have time for this, but then again, how could I possibly turn him away after the info he’d just shared?

The gull cocked his head to the side.“That depends.”

“Depends? On what?”

“If you help us, we’ll help you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Are you really going to force me to go straight to the nuclear option?”

I nodded, afraid to speak.

The bird shook his head and wings, giving himself a ragged appearance.“Look. If you don’t play nice, we don’t play nice. Let’s just say we have an army of woodpeckers ready to peck your house into the ground. You got me?”

“So either I help you, or you destroy my home?” I squeaked. A part of me wished I had left him to Poppy outside, but only a very small part.

“Hey, now you’ve got it.” He spread one wing to the side and took a bow.

“I’m kind of busy. I mean, I’m supposed to go on a road trip tomorrow. I’ll be gone all week.”

“Then un-busy yourself,” the seagull suggested rather unhelpfully and turned his back to me. Twisting his neck in a nearly ninety-degree arc, he eyed me head-on, his little eyes boring into me. “Unless, I guess, you don’t want to meet your long-lost grandmother.”

Chapter Three

I stared at my pushy seagull visitor, unwilling to blink my eyes for fear he might disappear.“Did you say…? M-M-My long-lost grandmother?”

The bird nodded, a smug expression on his beak.“We seagulls always have our eyes on the ground. In fact, I knew who you were even before you became my assignment.”

“But how?”

He shook a wing at me.“Now, now. That would be giving you the payment without first completing the job. So what do you say? Will you agree to help us?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. Ever since Pringle had unburied Nan’s secret letter, revealing the fact that my real grandfather had orchestrated my mother’s kidnapping, I’d been dying to meet the family I hadn’t known existed. My grandfather, William McAllister, had already died by the time we discovered his existence, but Mom and I had been able to connect with a number of other relatives who still lived down in Larkhaven, Georgia.

No one knew where my biological grandmother had ended up, though. No one except this seagull, apparently

“Good,” he said before settling himself on the dashboard. “Since you haven’t got wings, we’ll drive.”

I turned the key in the ignition.“Where are we going?”

“To the flock, of course. Head south by southwest.”

I’d never quite mastered navigating by cardinal directions, so I simply drove straight. When I started up the car, the bird clumsily fell back onto the seat, where he occasionally hopped up to get a view through the windshield and criticize my driving.

“Not that way. South by southwest!” the seagull shouted.

I turned to the left, which seemed to satisfy him.

“What’s your name?” I asked after we’d been driving for a while.

“Me? I’m Bravo. Second in command for Flock 82.” Wow, this was all so official. I had no idea birds were so well organized or that they organized themselves in a vaguely militaristic way.

“If you’re second in command, why were you assigned stalker duty? That doesn’t seem like a job for a high-ranking bird.”

Bravo clucked in disgust.“That’s what I said, but Alpha wasn’t having it. Said you were too important to trust to a rookie. You do your job now, and I’ll be everyone’s hero. Maybe score myself a new nest or even rise to challenge Alpha.”

“I don’t really understand how any of this works,” I confessed. “Birds are usually too afraid to talk to me.

“Not too afraid,” Bravo corrected. “We just find you wingless folk a bit tiring.”

Perhaps I should have been insulted, but if I could fly, I’d no doubt want to see more exciting things as well.

“This is the place,” Bravo said after a few more awkward minutes had passed. He motioned for me to park next to a row of dumpsters behind a strip mall.

“What now?” I asked after exiting my car.

Bravo let out a horrible shrieking caw, and suddenly an army of white descended from the skies.

The plumpest of the gulls landed right between me and Bravo and studied me with a frown curled on his beak.“Is this her?”

“Hi. I’m Angie.” I offered a hand in greeting, but then immediately withdrew it when I realized he had no way of shaking hello.

“You don’t look like a lawyer to me,” the seagull, who I now took to be Alpha, spat and lifted one foot into his under-plumage.

I chuckled uncomfortably. Maybe it was a good thing birds didn’t normally choose to chat with me. Let’s be honest here, they were pretty weird. Not only that, it seemed fully possibly that even the slightest misunderstanding could send Alpha pecking toward my eyes with hostile intent. Suddenly, my demanding tabby didn’t seem such a burden.

I shook my head and forced a smile.“I’m not a lawyer. I’m a private investigator.”

Alpha whipped his head to the side without moving his body an inch.“Not a lawyer, huh?” he addressed me while staring daggers at his second in command.

Bravo tittered nervously.“Of course you’re a lawyer. I found you at the law firm, remember?”

“I used to be a paralegal, but—”

“Stop helping,” he yelled through a gritted beak.

“This is why you’ll never be Alpha,” the seagull leader declared.

A few ill-spirited jeers rose up from the flock, and Bravo buried his face beneath a wing. Poor guy.

“I’m not a lawyer, but I can get you one. At no charge,” I sputtered, suddenly desperate to help the poor guy and not just because he knew where I could find my missing family.

Alpha stretched both wings overhead and opened his beak wide in a yawn.“Go on.”

“He’s my boyfriend. I can call him right now.”

“Stop squawking and start walking,” he told me with a stony gaze.

I took this to mean that I was to call Charles now. Dutifully, I pulled out my phone, noting it was still the early afternoon and praying Charles wouldn’t be in court or with a client.

He answered on the third ring.“Angie. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, but I have a bit of an emergency on my hands,” I mumbled into the receiver.

“Where are you?”

I walked around to the front of the strip mall and gave him the name of the first shop I saw.“In Dewdrop Springs,” I added.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” he promised without asking for any more information.

“Thank you. Love you,” I said before ending the call. I could explain once he arrived. That is, if I could figure out how to explain what I still didn’t understand myself.

“Well?” Alpha asked, hopping over to stand directly at my feet.

“He’s on his way,” I said, and Bravo released a giant sigh into the wind.

“Told you I had the right one,” he clucked.

“Can you maybe explain to me what’s going on?” Unfortunately, I couldn’t leave now that Charles was coming over to handle things—namely, because he still needed me to translate the animal-to-human communications.

“Why should we tell you anything?” Alpha demanded. “You’re just the go-between.”

Bravo chose that exact moment to fly to my shoulder and grab the soft fabric of my shirt as a perch. Naturally, I screamed and started waving my hands around wildly to unseat him.

“Jeez, relax,” he huffed. “This isn’t a Hitchcock movie, and I’m not a Hitchcock kind of bird. So relax already.”

Alpha laughed and flew onto my now free shoulder.“I like you. You’re funny.”

It took everything I had not to frantically bat him off. At least he liked me, right?

“That movie did wonders for us, you know? All these generations of gulls later, and good ol’ Hitchcock still has humans running from us in terror. We used to have to run from them, you know. Back in the dark ages of avian history.”

I nodded solemnly, amazed that any creature could be more ridiculous than my cat—let alone a whole society of them. “Is that what this is about?” I asked, too curious not to try to pry it out of him once more.

“No, no, no.” Bravo flew over and took a spot on my other shoulder, which meant I was now sandwiched between him and Alpha and feeling incredibly exposed. “This isn’t about humans at all. Well, except for the fact we needed your help.”

“You needed a lawyer,” I reminded them. “Why?”

“When dealing with an inferior opponent, sometimes you need an inferior judge. No offense. That’s where you and your lawyer friend come in.”

Ouch.

“An opponent, huh? Is somebody suing you? Charging you with a crime?” Both options seemed equally likely—and equally ludicrous.

“Don’t be silly. This isn’t about silly laws.” Alpha leaned forward menacingly and a mighty cry rose up from his flock. “This is war.”

Chapter Four

While waiting for Charles to join me in Dewdrop Springs, I texted Nan to let her know I’d be even later coming home than I’d originally suspected. Normally I would have called her for a quick chat since she was a notoriously bad texter, but Alpha’s declaration of war sent his entire flock into a cawing pandemonium. I could barely hear myself think, let alone speak. Yeah, even though I was still only in my late twenties, I would probably need a hearing aid after this one. Hopefully, Charles could help them with whatever they needed quickly, and we could all go about our separate lives again.

As scattered street lamps began to pop on and neon store signs lit to illuminate the growing darkness, I became very aware that I was standing alone and exposed in a crime-ridden commercial district with only a strange flock of seagulls to protect me.

When his sedan pulled into the strip mall parking lot, I jogged over to greet him. I did that a lot these days—jogged when I could just as easily have walked. I had Nan and our new morning exercise routine to thank for that one. I loved that I now felt strong and quick, secure in my body… Well, almost. Still couldn’t outrun my grandmother, though.

Charles parked and swung the door open, making a hasty exit. As soon as he was standing on solid pavement, I threw myself into his arms. Yes, it was definitely overdramatic, but tomorrow I’d be leaving on a lengthy cross-country trip and I was really going to miss him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling back to study my face.

I wiped at a tear I hadn’t realized I’d shed. Definitely overdramatic. “I’m fine. It’s just that—”

Before I could finish, the flock came rushing over with quickly flapping wings and ear-piercing cries.

“Is this the guy? Is this our lawyer?” Alpha demanded as he circled low.

Charles threw one hand over his head protectively and used the other to hold me close to his chest. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his heart thumping wildly beneath my cheek, his breaths coming out fast and short against my hair.

Bravo laughed as he at last landed on the hood of Charles’s car. “The Hitchcock maneuver, haha. Gets them every time.”

Okay, that was it!

I wriggled my way out of Charles’s protective grasp and turned to face the flock, wagging a finger at Bravo since he was closest. “If you want our help, there will be no more of this Hitchcock nonsense. You got it?”

“They’re just messing with us?” Charles’s voice came out choked. “For fun?”

I continued to glare at the birds as I nodded.“They threatened me, too. Said they’d send their woodpecker friends in to mess up my house if I refused to cooperate with whatever plan they have for us.”

“I don’t like this.” Charles glanced from me to the birds and back again. It was always awkward for him, taking part in these conversations with animals when he could only hear my side of things, but he still gave it his best. “I’m not sure we should help them if this is how they’re going to behave.”

Ahh, Charles. He’d make a great father one day. He already had the tough love thing down pat.

“What?” Alpha squawked. “But you said he’d be our lawyer. He can’t just say no. You already promised.”

I sighed to buy myself some time, then finally responded with,“Yes, we’ll help you as long as you promise to be civil from here on out.”

Alpha raised both wings overhead and bowed.“Bird’s honor.” I wasn’t sure how much I could trust his—or any other bird’s—honor, but I hoped for the best.

“Angie,” Charles said between gritted teeth, apparently far less appeased by Alpha’s promise. “Can I speak to you in the car for a moment?”

“Be right back,” I told the flock as I settled into his passenger seat. He’d turned on the seat heater for me on his way over, knowing I’d appreciate having it toasty warm when I got in.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, Charles spoke in a hasty whisper. His eyes reflected concern, worry—not anger or irritation. “Don’t you have to leave early tomorrow morning on your road trip? Why are you taking this on now?”

He was right, of course. The timing was dreadful, but what could I do?“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I answered in a small voice even though I’d hoped it would come out confident to allay his doubts.

“There’s always a choice. Whatever squabble these seagulls have they can solve themselves. You need to be well-rested so that you can focus on your trip and driving safely. Nothing they need could be more important than that.”

I loved that Charles always had my best interests at heart, no matter how inconvenient they were for him. Unfortunately he didn’t have the whole story yet. I didn’t either, and of course it was fully possible Bravo had lied to get me here.

Still, I had a chance—maybe a small one, maybe a big one—to finally fill the fissure in my heart that had opened wide when Pringle revealed our family’s hidden past. A part of me was missing, and these birds potentially knew how to find her. I needed to take the chance, not just for me but also my mother. She’dnever known her true biological parents, and she deserved to meet the one that was still alive, to find out why she’d been shucked off under a strange veil of secrecy in the first place.

I swallowed hard, then finally raised my eyes to meet his.“They said they know where my grandmother is,” I revealed, then let out a slow, shaky breath.

He cocked his head to the side, clearly confused by this proclamation of mine.“Yeah, she’s back home preparing for the trip. Probably baking her fourth batch of cookies for the day.”

I held his eyes, placed a hand on his shoulder, and tried again.“No, the other one.”

“Your biological grandmother?” He gasped, unable to keep his voice down any longer. “But nobody knows what happened to her or where to find her.”

I motioned my chin toward the window.“They say that they do.”

“And you believe them?” Charles raised one skeptical brow. I couldn’t tell whether he thought I was crazy for choosing to trust them when his brief encounter with the gulls had already proven they played by their own set of rules. But I’d already made my mind up. Now it was time to choose my attitude. I could pout and question everything—or I could make the best of it, no matter how awkward.

“I think I do,” I answered after a brief hesitation. “But even if I’m wrong about this, I still have to try.”

He grabbed my hand and gave it a kiss. A giant smile lit his handsome face as he let my hand go and turned toward the driver-side door.“Then let’s go help some seagulls.”

Chapter Five

I clutched tight to Charles’s hand as Alpha and the rest of Flock 82 led us around the back of the strip mall and into the brambles behind the pavement. Once clear of the overgrowth, we reached a clearing filled with an oversized patch of dead grass that had likely only just been exposed again after months being covered insnow.

Alpha stopped and signaled for the rest of us to do the same.“Now that we have a bit more privacy, let us begin,” the leader gull announced, then flew up to perch on my shoulder.

Charles flinched but remained in place at my side, although now with a death grip on my hand.

“Go ahead. Tell us what you need,” I said with a very slight nod, not wanting to startle the wielder of the sharp beak that was currently far too close to my face for comfort.

Alpha turned his head at an odd angle to stare at my face, bringing that weapon-like beak even closer.“As I mentioned earlier, this is a most urgent matter. Flock 84 has declared war, and we have ten days to secure a peaceful resolution before that declaration becomes official. We want to avoid war at all costs, because—”

“Hang on,” I mumbled. “I need to be able to translate for Charles.”

Alpha let out an irritated cluck but waited for me to share what I’d learned so far.

“Okay,” I said once the other human was caught up. “Just pause every couple sentences as you keep going.”

The bird shook out his feathers, clamping his talons into my shoulder a bit too firmly in an effort to keep his balance as he did so.“Like I was saying, we want to avoid war at all costs, because Flock 84 is much larger and better equipped for battle.”

“What does a war between seagulls entail?” I asked, trying not to laugh as I pictured a pair of angry white birds fighting over a fast-food wrapper. It was a scene I had witnessed more times than I could count, growing up on the Bay.

“Silence.” Alpha gave me a sharp peck on my collar bone. He hadn’t applied much force, but it still really, really hurt.

I shook him off my shoulder and rubbed at the sore spot above my chest.

As I did that, Charles jumped into protective boyfriend mode.“If you hurt her again, I’ll end your war before it even begins by feeding all of you to my cats!”

A panicked caw rose up, and several of the gulls took flight in an attempt to add some distance between themselves and this new guy who was aligned with their biggest predator.

“If we must respect you, then you must respect us,” the gull told me. “You laughed at the thought of dozens in my flock getting slaughtered.”

I knew instantly that he was right. I’d been far too insensitive given that lives were on the line. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice ringing out in the night like a bell. “Please do go on. We want to help however we can.”

“We have ten days to seek a peaceful resolution, and it’s up to us—the flock under attack—to declare the governing law. We chose human law, and that’s where you and your foul-mouthed little friend come in.”

I translated for Charles, leaving out the insult.

“Why would they choose human law?” he asked with a scrunched brow.

It was a good question. I wanted to know that, too.

“As I’m sure my second has already informed you, we keep tabs on you humans. Especially those of you who are gifted with the voice. All birds watch, but 82 watches closest of all. We knew we could reach out to you, a human with the voice and legal expertise. 84 will have a hard time finding someone to defend them within the allotted waiting period. Let alone to build a case.”

“Makes sense, but what are you fighting for?” I asked, hoping his answer would be the final piece needed to make sense of the flock’s needs and how Charles and I fit into it all.

“Land,” he said simply.

When he didn’t elaborate, Bravo spoke up. “Our neighboring flock, number 83, went missing several weeks ago. Assuming they’d abandoned their territory, we moved in to secure it for 82. But then 84 got it into their bird brains that the land should be theirs since they have a larger population.”

“Why do you think it should go to 82?” I asked, not letting it slip that I thought the warring flock had sound logic here.

Alpha narrowed his eyes at me—at least I think he did. It was kind of hard to tell with birds since their eyes were set on either side of their head instead of straight above their beaks. “Because we were here first. Also, 83’s former land sits nicely with ours.”

“Here?” I asked with a squeak as Alpha flew back to claim his place atop my shoulder. This couldn’t possibly be about some strip mall on the shady side of Dewdrop Springs. The rental prices here were practically free because so few ever wanted to step foot anywhere near this beaten-up town.

Alpha hopped from my shoulder onto Charles’s upper arm and used his beak to climb the rest of his way up to my boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is only a small part of the territory. We birds cover a lot of mileage in a day, so naturally our domains are large and encompass several human cities.”

“Does your flock cover Glendale, too? That’s where we live.” I had no idea birds kept their own maps and territory lines, but now that I thought about it, this made perfect sense. Just as their flock hierarchy and lack of a formal judicial system also made sense.

“Yes,” Alpha stated simply. “The entire bay is now ours with this new acquisition. Though, we need to avoid the war to keep it.”

“And you know where I can find my grandmother,” I reminded him since my involvement hinged largely on this one fact. “Does that mean she’s close? Somewhere near the bay?”

“She is closer than you know,” Alpha said in a maddeningly cryptic way. He shook out his feathers again, giving Charles quite the start. “Also closer than I know. Bravo is the one who tracks these matters.”

“But you’ll take me to her if we help?” I practically begged, needing this confirmation more than anything else in that moment.

“If you win our case, then yes.”

“We will,” I promised, because it seemed like the only option. “We’ll win it for you.”

He nodded.“Good.”

“Angie,” Charles whisper-yelled. “You never promise the client you’ll win, only that you’ll fight your hardest for them.”

“I doubt you’ll get disbarred over how you represent some flock of seagulls out in Dewdrop Springs,” I responded with a nervous chuckle.

“If your partner has doubts,” Alpha warned, giving me some serious side eye, “then we can call this whole thing off now. It’s only the lives of my flock on the line.”

“No, no, no!” I cried. “We’ll help, and he’s just being modest. He’s the best lawyer in all of Maine. I promise you that.”

“Angie—” Charles started again.

This time Alpha cut him off.“If you’re worried about your payment, worry not. The flock will arrange something worthwhile to thank you for your efforts.”

I quickly translated.

“It’s not about money, or whatever passes for money with birds. I just can’t make a promise I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep. I will definitely give your case my all, though.” Charles risked craning his neck to look Alpha in the eye. “I want to save your flock and prevent the war,too. And I think you have a very strong case in your defense. I’ll represent you to the very best of my abilities. I don’t often lose in court, and I don’t plan on losing this time.”

“Then I am satisfied,” Alpha said with a curt nod. “We’ll meet again tomorrow to discuss your progress. I’ll send Bravo.”

With that, the gulls let out a collective caw and rose into the night sky, leaving Charles and I to make our own way back to the parking lot.

Ten days.

If all went to plan, I would meet my long-lost grandmother in just ten short days. I still couldn’t believe it.

Chapter Six

After being summarily dismissed by Alpha and his flock, Charles and I drove our separate cars to a little diner just outside the Dewdrop Springs city limits. He ordered a coffee, but I sprung for a hot fudge sundae with an extra cherry on top.

“So what’s our plan?” he asked casually, holding the steaming mug between his hands.

Not even the sweetness of my dessert could mask the bitterness of what I realized had to happen next. I pushed my long-handled spoon as far down as it would go in the soda shop style glass and heaved a giant sigh.

“I’ll tell Octo-Cat I can’t take him to see Grizabella. He won’t be happy, but I can take him another time. Soon, even. It’s just that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I refuse to let it slip by. I might never meet my bio grandma otherwise.”

Charles sucked air through his teeth, then regarded me with a frown.“You can’t change your travel plans. It’s too last minute for that. And I know you don’t want to deal with how cranky Octo-Cat will be for the rest of his nine lives if you do.”

I pressed my back against the firm vinyl of the booth. Charles was right, as always. There would be hefty penalties to pay for disappointing Octo-Cat, but I just couldn’t see any way around it. “What choice do I have, though?” I asked.

“You go as planned. I’ll work on things here.” With that, he pulled my sundae to his side of the table and stole one of the cherries from the top.

“You can’t talk to them,” I pointed out, leaning over the table to reclaim my sundae and popping the remaining cherry into my mouth.

Charles smiled.“You use FaceTime with Octo-Cat, right? Can’t we use it for the seagulls, too?”

“But what about your caseload? You’ve been so busy lately. I’d hate to add another thing when—”

“Angie, relax. It’s okay. I want to help. Besides, my girlfriend is going out of town for the week. I’ll need something to keep me busy on my off hours. Might as well be this.” He shrugged and took a slow sip of coffee.

I waited for him to set the mug back onto the table.“Are you sure?”

He reached forward and grabbed both my hands, then wedged his fingers between mine.“Completely. You need this trip, and so does your cat. Besides, I already have a few case precedents in mind that should make winning this thing a cinch.

“You’re too good to me,” I said with a happy sigh. Especially considering he seemed to be quite afraid of the flock, but I didn’t mention that part aloud.

“It’s no big deal. They said they have ten days, and you’ll be back by then. We can deliver the big case together.”

“Sounds perfect.” And it did.

Charles’s features pinched as he leaned back against the red and white vinyl booth. “There’s just one part I’m not sure about. They mentioned that Flock 83 disappeared, but they never said why or where they went.”

I spooned a massive heap of hot fudge into my mouth and moaned with pleasure.“They’re birds. Birds migrate. I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

Charles bit his lip and nodded.“Probably not. Still, I might feel better if I knew for sure. It could help the case, too.”

“I don’t know much about that, but I bet if you could get Bravo to talk to you alone without Alpha there, he’ll be more forthcoming.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now tell me about what you did today before the run-in with those birds.”

We laughed and chatted until I scraped the last smudge of gooey sweetness from my sundae. It was far shorter than I would have liked, but we both had big days ahead of us tomorrow.

Charles stood and extended a hand to me to help me out of the booth.“I’m going to miss you so much,” he said before giving me a goodbye kiss that would need to last almost a full week.

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Despite leaving early that morning with my human-do list, I arrived home after Paisley’s self-prescribed bedtime of eight o’clock. The little dog, who lay snoozing by the front door, lifted her head groggily and thumped her tail against the hardwood floor.

“Are you home now, Mommy? I couldn’t sleep without knowing you’d made it back safe and sound.”

I set my bags on the floor and then scooped her into my arms and gave her a kiss on her forehead.“I’m home, sweetie. Go get some sleep.”

She licked my hands as I bent to set her back down, then raced upstairs to find Nan, her little tail swinging back and forth the entire time.

I could always count on our Chihuahua for a warm welcome. Octo-Cat, on the other hand, did not look pleased to see me.

“Took you long enough,” he spat from his perch about halfway up the staircase. “Did you at least get everything on my list?”

“Other than the stuff Nan picked up, yeah. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Stuff,” he said with a yawn. “I don’t like you calling my things that.”

He’d demanded everything from a specific brand of shrimp cocktail to that infuriating audiobook. I didn’t know what else to call that odd grouping other than “stuff.”

“Why are you so late?” he asked, running up the stairs in front of me as I trudged slowly after him.

“Something came up. Something with seagulls,” I muttered, really not wanting to get into all that right now.

Octo-Cat arched his back and had the audacity to hiss at me.“You’re not backing out on me. Are you? Because that is the lamest excuse you’ve come up with yet.”

Oh, if only he knew how close I’d been to packing it in. He was lucky I loved him so much and that Charles loved me so much.

“Bright and early tomorrow morning. I’ll be ready.” I really should have lectured him on his poor manners or hurtful lack of gratitude, but I was just too tired to deal with him anymore that night.

“Good,” he said, sashaying down the hallway to his bedroom and slipping through the slightly open door.

I shook my head and continued up another flight of stairs to my tower bedroom.

I was in for a very long week. Our road trip would take us thirty hours of driving each way—and that was without any breaks to eat, sleep, or stretch our legs. Thankfully I’d have Nan to split driving shifts with me, though I didn’t love that she had wanted to take her tiny Audi coupe cross-country rather than my roomier old sedan.

Besides the drive itself, I knew I was in for an awkward time visiting with Grizabella’s owner, Christine. She didn’t know I could talk to animals and I preferred to keep it that way. This meant I’d needed to come up with a farfetched excuse that I’d already planned to be in town and would love it if she could watch Octo-Cat for me while I was off at my fake conference.

She’d bought it hook, line, and sinker. Really, she had no reason to suspect my cover story was a lie. Even though it was a harmless one, I still felt bad. Not bad enough to risk exposure of my freakish—and often troubling—ability, but still.

Despite today’s hiccough with the seagulls, everything would still happen to plan with this trip, whether I spent time agonizing over the details or not. And I definitely preferred not.

I quieted my thoughts, promising myself I’d deal with each new thing as it came. The last thing on my mind before I drifted off to sleep was that I really hoped my cat knew how much I loved him, and that he would at least try to be nice to me for the duration of the trip.

Yes, I still believed in miracles, it seemed.

Chapter Seven

I awoke to the sound of four little feet charging rapidly up and down my private staircase. The stomping rose to the top of the stairs then paused.

“Reo-reow!” Octo-Cat cried from the other side of my door, a cat possessed. His point apparently now made, he raced back down the stairs and up again and down before letting out another echoing cry. “Reowowoweoeoweoew!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. He so rarely got the zoomies, but when he did, my sides usually ended up aching from all the unexpected laughing at his antics.

“Seems like someone’s more than a little bit excited about our big trip,” I called after flinging the door open.

My cat rushed into the room so fast, he appeared as little more than a brown blur. Slowing himself only slightly, he hopped onto my unmade bed and pounced on my pillow, hopping up and down on his front paws.“It’s morning. Can we go now? Reo-reow!”

And he was off like a shot once again.

I glanced toward the window, which hung dark without even the slightest hint of sunlight yet peeking through. We had planned on being up early, but…

A quick check of my phone confirmed that it was hardly past four AM. The plan had been to set out at six…

Oh, well.

There really was no point bemoaning my lost sleep, nor was there any sense in trying to nab any additional shuteye before we headed out. Octo-Cat was simply too excited to accept any kind of delay.

I got dressed quickly, choosing a pair of blue polkadot sweatpants and a T-shirt featuring a cartoon cat with his face pressed through a slice of white bread. The first time I’d worn it, Octo-Cat had insisted that the pun on “purebred” not only didn’t make sense but was also offensive. Considering his past reaction to the harmless T, today seemed the perfect day to wear it. Not only would it help me stay comfortable during the long drive, but it would also enable me to exact a modicum of revenge for the early wake-up call. I smiled to myself as I swept my hair back into a messy bun and smeared Chapstick over said smile.

When I padded downstairs lugging my haphazardly packed suitcase behind me, I found Nan up and full of pep. She held out a shiny metallic travel mug, which I graciously accepted.

As I took my first glorious sip, Paisley ran into the room, singing,“Oh, what a beautiful day for an adventure!”

She yipped when she saw me, stood on her hind legs, and placed her front paws just below my knee—her signal that she wanted to be picked up.

I lowered my mug and took in the sight of her for the first time that morning.“Nan,” I cried in shock. “What have you done to her?”

“That’s her travel look. Don’t you like it?” My grandmother patted the swirly pink scarf on her own head. It matched the one wrapped around the Chihuahua’s neck perfectly. A paisley print, I realized.

On top of that, Paisley the dog also wore a pair of hot pink goggles—to help with wind-burn Nan later explained, which I guessed meant we’d be driving with the windows down for at least part of the trip. Octo-Cat would love that.

And, sure enough, after we all piled into the car—Nan in the passenger’s seat, me driving, and the pets and luggage crammed into the sports coupe’s tiny back seat—my grandmother immediately rolled down both windows.

“I should have sprung for the convertible when I had the chance,” Nan remarked, much to the horror of Octo-Cat, who’d finally shaken off his zoomies and was now back to his usual crabby self.

“Are you sure we can’t take my car?” I asked one last time while waiting for the engine to warm up a bit.

Nan turned to me, aghast.“Of course not. What’s the point in having a nice car if you never use it?”

Well, I wasn’t the one with the fancy sports car, but we would be sharing shifts, so I let that go. Our goal was to drive straight through to Colorado by alternating driving and sleeping shifts and consuming lots and lots of caffeine. I’d have preferred to actually stop at a motel for some rest along the way, but once Nan suggested making the trip a straight shot, Octo-Cat refused to have it any other way.

Tired but determined, I transitioned to drive.

Paisley let out a happy bark from right behind me, returning to her earlier song with even more volume than before. Frigid morning air rushed into the car as we picked up speed, and Paisley leaped over the center console, then scrambled onto Nan’s lap, using that extra bit of height to stick her goggled face out the window.

“See,” Nan clucked. “And you thought the goggles were too much.”

“Can we please close the window and turn on the sun now?” my cat moaned. He’d never liked car trips, but at least now he could take them without needing to keep his claws dug firmly into my thighs for added comfort—his, obviously, not mine.

“You woke us all up two hours early. It’s going to be dark for a while,” I reasoned.

“Dark, fine. But does it need to be so cold?” I glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and found his unhappy amber eyes boring into mine.

Paisley let out another excited yip in response.

“Maybe we can take turns with the window the same way we’re doing for the driving,” I offered with a small shrug, willing myself to focus on the road ahead of me and not at the angry animal behind me.

Then something strange happened. In fact, if I hadn’t been there myself, I never would have believed in.

Octo-Cat laughed. He actually laughed!

“The important thing is we reach my dear Grizabella as quickly as possible,” he said with a blissful sigh.

“Yeah,” I answered with a smile, hardly believing how reasonable he was being.

“Now drive faster please,” he commanded in a perfectly pleasant way.

I checked my speedometer and shook my head.“I’m already a few miles above the speed limit. Sorry.”

“Why sorry? You and I both know this car can go a lot faster.”

A quick look in the rear-view mirror revealed he was being perfectly serious, and if I didn’t comply with his demands, he’d start nagging at me again. I groaned and pressed down on the accelerator with a slight bit of added pressure before easing back again.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long, long drive.

Chapter Eight

A couple hours into our trip, the sun had finally begun to peek over the horizon. Nan had spent most of that morning dozing softly beside me. Paisley had settled in her lap and was making cute whimpering noises as she rested. Octo-Cat, on the other hand, remained in the back seat endlessly droning on about all his plans for his week with Grizabella.

I nodded along saying nothing as was expected, since when Octo-Cat spoke, he usually did it for his own benefit rather than anyone else’s.

“Mommy,” a small voice rose up from beside me. I quickly turned to see Paisley had lifted her head and was staring at me with wide, sparkling eyes. “I have to go potty.”

We’d just passed the perfect exit for a quick pit stop not even two minutes ago. We were also on the portion of our trip that took us through rural countryside, which meant the options would be few and far between.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” I said, since that was the best I could do. “I promise.”

“Excuse me, I’m talking here,” the tabby in the back seat growled and then continued with his long-winded soliloquy.

“I don’t think I can hold it,” the little dog squeaked, standing now and raising one paw after the other in excitement.

Nan awakened with a snort and glanced around the car with bleary eyes.

Paisley whimpered again, louder and more persistent.

“I promise we’ll stop as soon as the next exit pops up. It won’t be too much longer, okay?” I hoped this little white lie ended up being true.

“I can’t hold it. I can’t hold it,” Paisley squealed.

I knew better than to push our luck, lest Nan land herself with a lap full of doggie pee. So I pulled the sports coupe to the side of the highway, grateful there weren’t many people out at this early hour. Rush hour hadn’t even begun yet.

“Be very careful,” I explained before opening my door and allowing Paisley to trot after me. “And don’t go where I can’t see you!”

Nan had already fallen back asleep in her seat, which meant it was up to me to keep track of both animals.

Octo-Cat sauntered out and began to walk up the shoulder of the highway. I let him do his thing. Mostly because if I corrected him, he’d be extra sure to do the exact opposite of what I wanted.

Instead, I turned back to watch as Paisley squatted and sighed with pleasure upon relieving herself.“It feels so good.”

“Dogs are such disgusting creatures.” Octo-Cat marched toward me with his tail standing straight and tall. “Well,” he said, cocking his head expectantly.

“Well, what?” I responded with a sigh.

“Where’s my litter box?” He stopped and plopped his rear on the pavement, regarding me with a sneer. “You can’t expect me to use the litter box without the litter box.”

“I am not assembling your box for a pit stop. It doesn’t come out until we reach Colorado.”

“So you expect me not to relieve myself in all that time? Impossible.”

“You can relieve yourself. Just not in the box. I have nowhere to throw the litter once you’re done, and it’s incredibly wasteful to get it out for a single use. And I’m not driving with an open litter box in the car, so forget that right now.”

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asked with a huff.

Paisley trotted back over and gave Octo-Cat a big lick on the face. “I can teach you how to potty outside, Octavius. I don’t mind at all.”

“No, thank you,” he said with a shudder.

I crossed my arms and stared at him down the bridge of my nose. “Are you going to go or not?”

“Not,” came his terse reply.

“Fine. Then let’s get back in the car.”

Once we’d all piled back in, Octo-Cat’s excited talk of his plans with Grizabella turned to bitter complaints about my unwillingness to accommodate his litter box needs.

“Will you just stop it already?” I asked after a solid ten minutes of this. “I’m sorry I upset you, but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“I would think you had a little more respect by now,” he scoffed.“After all we’ve been through! After all I’ve done for you. You can’t just—”

“Oh!” I interrupted, having landed upon an idea I rather liked. “That audiobook you sent me all over Blueberry Bay looking for… Let’s listen to it.”

His voice softened. “Oh, yes. Shockingly, that is a good idea from you.”

I rolled my eyes as I shoved the CD in and turned up the volume.

“Dr. Roman’s Guide to Romance,” the narrator said in a deep, authoritative voice that felt completely wrong for this kind of book. “Chapter one. Learning to Love.”

“Love is a beautiful agreement between two souls, and it’s also one of the best things life has to offer,” the narrator droned. “Romance is but a small part of the broader picture of love, although many find it to be the most rewarding.”

“He’s right about that,” Octo-Cat said with a happy sigh.“I am a cat forever changed by the love of my darling Grizabella.”

I rolled my eyes again. Thank goodness Charles and I weren’t like this.

“Romance is all about celebrating love, and to do that you first need to have love in your life.”

I groaned. “Do you really want to listen to this guy?”

“Ssshhhhhh,” Octo-Cat hissed. “This is good stuff here.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and gritted my teeth as the speaker—Dr. Roman himself, it turned out—continued to prattle on about how love was a many splendored thing and other such clich?s. Seriously, how was this book a bestseller?

Before long, Nan perked up. “What are you listening to?” she asked.

“Only the single most intelligent human to ever live,” Octo-Cat answered even though Nan couldn’t understand him.

I translated this as,“Octo-Cat’s new audiobook.” Injecting as much sarcasm into my tone as I could manage while still paying proper attention to the road, I added, “Dr. Roman’s Guide to Romance. Apparently he’s the single most intelligent human to ever live.”

Unaware of the compliments and insults we were bandying about, Dr. Roman continued,“Unlike love, romance is not ever a noun. It’s always meant to be a verb. Romance doesn’t just happen. It’s something you must work to actively create in your life.” He paused to let this great wisdom sink in.

“Can you believe this guy?” I asked quietly, hoping the cat wouldn’t overhear.“He doesn’t even have a basic understanding of the parts of speech. How can you believe a word that comes out of his mouth?”

“He’s right, actually,” Nan said, nodding thoughtfully. “I never thought of it exactly like that, but it’s true. Why just last week, Grant and I—”

“Ssshhhhh,” Octo-Cat hissed again, and we all fell silent listening to Dr. Roman’s words fill the car.

Was I being unfair to this book, or was I simply cynical about romance? Charles had always been the more romantic of the two of us, and I’d always been more than happy to let him take the lead. Did I owe it to him to try harder?

Ugh.

Whether or not I liked Dr. Roman, the truth was we were all going to be stuck in this car together for quite some time. I could at least listen to what Dr. Roman had to say. Especially considering Nan and Octo-Cat now hung on his every word. Even little Paisley sat with both ears erect as she happily squinted her eyes in that special way Chihuahuas do when they are completely content with life.

I listened without complaint as Dr. Roman delivered his list of seven must-haves for creating romance, and I said nothing when he launched into his guided meditation for romantic mindfulness. But by the time he started in on the aphrodisiac effect of certain foods and beverages, I’d had enough.

“Let’s stop for coffee,” I said, then let out a giant, demonstrative yawn.

“Shhhhhh,” all three of the others hissed at me.

Even though they were talking to me, it was Dr. Roman’s voice that quieted as a ringing sound poured out of the car’s speakers.

Nan pressed a button on the radio and Charles’s voice filled the car. “Hey, how’s the drive going?” he asked.

“I hope you don’t mind, dear,” Nan said, “but I hooked your phone up to the Bluetooth because I knew your fellow would be calling before too long. Looks like I was right.”

I smiled, so incredibly grateful for the distraction I could have cried. “Totally fine,” I told both Nan and Charles since it applied to both of the things they’d said. “We’re making good time. How are things there?”

Charles sucked in a sharp breath.

And that was all I needed to know good news wouldn’t be coming.

Chapter Nine

“The flock is here,” Charles whispered into the phone.“They’re in my front yard. Dozens of them.”

“What?” I shouted, eliciting a fresh string of complaints from the crabby tabby in the back seat.“Why?”

“I don’t know. I can’t exactly talk to them on my own,” Charles pointed out, and of course he was right.

“Do you want me to turn around? We’ve only been at it a few hours. I can come back. You don’t have to deal with this on—”

Even before I finished that offer, Octo-Cat flew forward from the back seat, scaring the life out of me. When he landed on my lap, claws and all, I swerved into the next lane. Thank goodness, the road was still mostly empty on this stretch.

“Easy there, girl,” Nan said, stroking the dashboard of her car lovingly.

“Is everything okay?” Charles asked, his worry echoing around the car’s cushy interior.

“No, we’re fine. But I guess I’m not turning around.”

“You better not be,” Octo-Cat warned, digging his claws into my thighs once again to emphasize his point.

“Do you want to put me on FaceTime or something?” I offered meekly.“So that I can talk to the seagulls for you?”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s definitely unnerving, but I think they’re just keeping an eye on me,” he said.

The tap turned on, and the sound of fresh water rushing into his empty coffee pot gave me a wicked craving for my favorite caffeinated beverage. Oh, how I wished I was there with him rather than on this obnoxious road trip.

“They must’ve followed me home last night,” Charles continued. “I’m getting that they don’t trust me.”

“I don’t know much about birds,” I admitted as we passed a semi-truck on the left. “They’ve never been willing to talk to me before now, but my guess is they just want to make sure you don’t forget about them.” I shrugged even though he couldn’t see the gesture.

“Well, it makes me uncomfortable,” he informed me. “Whenever I look out the window all their beady eyes snap to me. They’re sizing me up. It’s unnerving, really.”

“I’m sorry.” And I truly was sorry. “I shouldn’t have asked you to—”

“No,” he cut me off. “I want to do this for you. For your family. I’m just not sure I totally understand what’s expected.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Charles still had more to say.

“I researched case precedents last night before going to bed. You know, just in case those things matter to seagulls, and I did find a few cases that could work. Winning this for the flock should be pretty simple, but whether or not we can win isn’t what concerns me here.”

“It’s having the whole flock camping out in your yard,” I finished for him.

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem right. Why don’t they trust me? What do they expect me to find?”

“You don’t think they told us the full truth about the war?” I asked.

“Or the disappearance of the other flock,” he confirmed. Coffee now gurgled and brewed on Charles’s side of the conversation.

“Do you think there’s something important we’re missing here?” I prompted while my mouth salivated for the hot bitter rush of that coffee.

“I definitely think it’s worth checking out,” he agreed. “I know they’re just birds, but still I’d like to know the truth.”

“I wish I were there to help,” I moaned. “It feels wrong to be so far removed from the situation, especially since you wouldn’t even be doing this if it weren’t for me.”

I still hadn’t told Nan about Bravo’s offer to introduce me to my long-lost bio grandma, so I chose my words carefully while speaking to Charles now. “I’ll be back before you have to go to trial.”

“These birds are definitely going to keep me on task until then. I honestly worry about what they’ll do if they think I’m ignoring their case. It almost feels like they’re some kind of avian mafia here. Ugh. If only there was some way to find that missing flock,” he said thoughtfully.

“Actually, there is a way,” Octo-Cat piped in from the back seat.

“Hang on,” I told Charles. “It seems Octo-Cat has an idea.”

“Not an idea,” he corrected with a haughty snort. “The solution.”

He wasted no time in continuing, “I don’t know all the details—or really any of the details—about this seagull stuff. You know, since somebody didn’t deem this new case important enough to tell her partner about.”

I held my tongue to avoid another pointless argument. But when had there been time to tell him? I was out until all hours working on his honey-do list last night, and today I’d been focused on driving while he filled every spare moment with either talk of Grizabella or lackluster advice from Dr. Roman.

“Anyway, as much as I hate to admit it,” Octo-Cat continued. “Our top spy stayed home.”

“Our top spy?” I asked. It was rare Octo-Cat admitted that anyone could do anything better than him, especially a task he enjoyed as much as spying.

“Yeah, the raccoon.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Of course it’s not a bad idea. It came from me.”

“What?” Charles asked. “What did he say?”

“Pringle,” I explained in one single word.

“What about him?” Charles wanted to know.

“Well, he can talk to the birds for you and he loves gossip. I’m sure you don’t even have to ask for his help. You just have to talk about the problem near him and he’ll go explore it on his own.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. Especially if it puts these questions to rest for you.”

“Okay,” he agreed, taking a slurp of coffee that made me incredibly antsy in my coffeeless state “I’ll go over to your place after work and see what I can do.”

“Great. If you want, you can FaceTime me once you’re there. I’ll tell Pringle what we need him to do.”

“I love you,” Charles said before taking another noisy sip.

I told him I loved him too and said goodbye. When we hung up, Dr. Roman’s voice immediately came bursting back through the speakers. No, no more. I needed at least some kind of break from him, so I turned the radio off.

“Hey,” Octo-Cat protested.

“Hey yourself,” I said. “I just need a minute so I can focus on finding an exit.”

“Does this mean you’re finally going to set up my litter box? Because I’ve been holding it, and I hate holding it.”

I refused to dignify that question with a response since I’d already made my position on the travel litter box more than clear. And a few miles later I found an exit that boasted a gas station, if not much else.

Hey, gas station coffee was good enough for me, especially since I didn’t know how quickly Nan’s car ran through fuel and didn’t want to take any chances there.

“Can you top us off?” I asked Nan after pulling in beside the pump closest to the door. I was out of the car and rushing inside before she could even answer.

A few minutes later, I returned with a steaming Styrofoam cup full of the good stuff clutched greedily in my hands.

“We should stop for some breakfast,” Nan suggested, finishing up at the pump.

“I’m not sure there’s anything on this exit.”

“Well, something will turn up eventually,” she said with a smile, and so we took a twenty-minute detour until at last we found a small diner that looked like it had been converted from a mobile home.

We ordered scrambled eggs and sausage to go, then sat outside with the animals in the parking lot as we tried to enjoy our meal.

“So what’s going on with those seagulls Charles was talking about?” Nan asked when we’d both eaten through about half of our containers.

“Oh, they need help with a territory dispute.” I tried to wave her off and changed the subject.“How about Dr. Roman, though? Do you really like his guide to romance?” I asked with a giggle.

“It’s as good as any other guide out there, I’m sure,” she said. “But why are you going out of your way to help these birds now? Couldn’t this have waited until you were back from the trip? Is there some kind of deadline?”

“According to their laws, we don’t have much time before a war starts up,” I explained casually. “So I agreed to work on their terms in hopes of preventing that war.”

“But why?” she said, studying me with glistening eyes.

“I…” my words trailed away.

“It’s okay, dear. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it,” Nan said with a half-cocked grin.

“It’s just, they said they know where…” I didn’t know how to word this, exactly. Nan was my grandmother. And yet I longed to know the woman our family had lost so many years ago. “Well,” I started again, taking a different approach. “You know how birds are. They see everything, and they know the lay of the land, and…” I continued to sputter nervously, getting nowhere fast.

“Is this about your other grandmother, dear?” Nan said softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “It’s okay if it is.”

I nodded but said nothing.

“Well then, we better help these birds because I’d like to meet her, too.”

Chapter Ten

The rest of the day eked by at a snail’s pace. I also felt like an ant who’d had its legs trapped in molasses. Well, whatever kind of insect I’d become, I was moving and moving and yet getting nowhere.

By this point, we’d more than half finished Dr. Roman’s audiobook. Nan had taken over the wheel about an hour ago, but still I couldn’t sleep. Somehow, against all odds, Octo-Cat had also stayed awake this entire time. His eagerness to reach our destination was far past being cute… and dangerously close to the point of me putting him in his carrier just to calm him down and give the rest of us a break.

When my phone rang, I jumped in my seat at the chance to answer it. I’d have liked to read a book or play some games, but I always became carsick when I focused my gaze anywhere but on the road ahead.

“Angie?” Charles said when I forgot to offer a hello.

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. What’s up?” I leaned forward in my seat eager to hear his report.

“I’m just about to leave the firm and head to your place.” He hesitated. “That is, if you still want to speak with Pringle.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I do. How was your day? Better than it started out?”

He hesitated again, sending my worry into high gear.“Kind of. At least the entire flock didn’t follow me to work.”

“But some of them did?” Why had I ever agreed to help these annoying birds? Yes, they had some serious leverage over me, but I hated that they were practically stalking Charles while I was too far to do anything to put a stop to it.

“Yeah. Well, one of them, anyway.”

“That’s probably Bravo. He’s kind of in charge of this whole legal thing.”

“He’s been sitting at my window all day. Watching. Waiting. I don’t like it, Angie.”

I didn’t like it, either, but Charles needed me to remain calm and handle the situation. “Put him on, please.”

“Just a second.”

I listened as Charles wrenched the window open and whistled for the bird to join us.

“You’re on speaker,” Charles informed me a few seconds later.

“Bravo?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice calm and even. Authoritative.

“The one and only,” the seagull confirmed.

Okay, the flock worked according to rules and hierarchies. If I could appeal to that, perhaps I could get him to back off.“Why are you stalking Charles?” I demanded. “You hired us to help, and now you have to trust us.”

“No can do. Alpha has given me express instructions to keep a close eye on everything, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“And I’m asking you very politely not to. Charles will work better if you cut him some slack.” I took a shallow breath, resisting the urge to sigh heavily into the phone.

Unfortunately, Bravo remained steadfast in his refusal.“Alpha’s orders are final. Your mate’s going to have a white shadow until it’s go time.”

A white shadow? I didn’t like the sound of that at all and was starting to understand why Charles was so suspicious of what had led to this whole territory dispute in the first place.

“Okay, well, I tried,” I told the bird, and then, “Charles, take me off speaker.”

“Okay,” he said with a huff. “So, what now?”

“Close the window,” I whispered into the phone. “I don’t want Bravo to hear this next part.”

I waited as the window slammed shut with a thump.

“This is getting weird, right?” Charles whispered back.

“I think it started that way, but it’s definitely weird.” I paused and took a moment to figure out a plan. “I’m going to call you back. Let it go to voicemail. I’m going to leave a message for Pringle. Make sure Bravo’s not around when you let him listen to it.”

“But how can I do either of those things? Getting Pringle to listen to me and keeping Bravo away?”

That was a good question. I ran through my options, silently wondering just how well birds could hear. Would Bravo be able to listen in through a closed window? I didn’t know, but I still had to take a chance with this. After all, the alternative was doing nothing to help poor Charles through this mess.

“Um, I’ll call back twice and leave two separate messages,” I decided. “One to get Pringle inside, and one to tell him what we need. As long as you don’t let Bravo into the house, that should give you the privacy you need. You still have the key I gave you, right?”

“I do,” he answered.

“Good. Head straight to my place. Pringle is probably in one of his treehouses, but he might be off collecting secrets from the neighborhood. Can you call me back when you find him?”

“What about the voicemails you’re planning to leave?” Charles wondered.

“Those are just a fail-safe. Call me, and I’ll make sure to stop whatever I’m doing—be it driving or sleeping or whatever—and I’ll give you my full attention. Hey, do you mind hanging around my house for a while if he’s out?”

I could practically hear the cringe in his voice as he said,“Better your place with one seagull than mine with the whole flock.” I really wished I was there with him, and not just because this road trip was driving me crazy.

“Good point. You know you can stay at my place if you need to.”

“Nah. They’ll just move bases, plus Jacques and Jillianne will be furious if I’m not home by bedtime.” He was right, of course. His two Sphynx cats were even more strangely entitled than Octo-Cat.

“Okay, I’ll call right back,” I promised, hating to let him go but also knowing I needed to move things along here. “Remember not to pick up. Love you. Bye.”

We hung up, and I took a few deep breaths before hitting redial. When his voicemail picked up, I raised my voice just south of a shout.“Pringle! Pringle! Charles is looking for you. Come over and talk to him. I’ve left you a top-secret message that will self-destruct in ten minutes whether or not you listen to it. So hurry up and follow him inside. Further instructions await you there.”

Click.

There. I’d appealed to his sense of drama. He wouldn’t be able to resist that.

I texted Charles between calls:“One down, one to go.”

When my second call was routed to voicemail, I laid out the basics of my plan and how it would involve the nosy trash panda.

“Agent Pringle, thank goodness you’ve accepted our call for help.” I reached deep down and pulled out every spy movie cliche I could think of. The raccoon had once thought of himself as a noble medieval knight, but his predilections tended to change based on whatever TV shows and movies he preferred at the time. Right now, he was on a Tom Cruise/ Arnold Schwarzenegger/ Bruce Willis binge, so spy tropes it was.

“We fear our mission might have been compromised and that our supposed allies aren’t giving us all the information. We’ve got a dirty flock and the impending threat of war. Already one flock has gone AWOL, and we need you to find these key witnesses and extract the true nature of their disappearance.”

As I continued to rattle off everything we knew in the most dramatic way possible, I started simply throwing in the names of popular action flicks. The cornier I could make this, the more our little raccoon spy would like it.

“It’s going to be Sum of All Fears around here if we don’t stop this Lethal Weapon from detonating. I’m counting on you to be The Terminator of these lies before somebody Dies Hard. Are you ready to join us on this Mission Impossible, Agent 007? Good, then await my next call for your assignment.”

I hung up quickly. If either Nan or Octo-Cat was paying attention, it was only a matter of time until one of them burst out laughing and spoiled the ruse. Yes, I knew that last part of my plea had made very little sense, but I also knew it would get the raccoon excited and ready to do whatever it took to solve the case.

Operation Raccoon Spy, here we come!

Chapter Eleven

Charles texted half an hour later to say he couldn’t find Pringle anywhere, but that he’d stay as late as he could without upsetting his two feline overlords back home.

While waiting to see if he would need me, I eventually nodded off.

I didn’t wake up again until the dead of the night.

Nan was wide awake as she took her turn behind the wheel, and she was listening ahead in Dr. Roman’s audiobook while the pets napped curled up together in the back seat. Octo-Cat would not be happy about that.

“Oh, you’re up?” my grandmother asked, turning her head to glance at me briefly as she clicked the stereo off.

I stretched what little I could belted into my seat, then wiped the sleep from my eyes.“Did Charles call?”

“He did, but I let him know you were dead to the world.”

Wow. I really must have been if I hadn’t heard the phone ring.

“Do you want me to take over for a while?” I offered despite still feeling quite sleepy. We could always find some coffee to activate my awakening sequence, if needed.

“I’m fine, dear. I don’t need quite as much sleep as I did when I was young.”

I smiled instead of pointing out that she’d slept clear through most of the day. “Okay, then I guess I’ll try to grab some more rest of my own. Wake me up when you’re ready to switch, okay?”

“Not a problem,” she promised and hit play on the audiobook again.

It only took a couple of minutes for me to drift back into a deep slumber—well, at least deep considering I had to do it while sitting up and buckled in. Driving was just about the most exhausting activity you could do while sitting on your butt the whole time. If I dreamed, it wasn’t something worth remembering because the next thing I knew somebody in the car was screaming.

“Oh my whiskers! I’ve never seen such a beautiful place! We have to go! We have to go!” Octo-Cat crooned as I opened my eyes and blinked hard.

Noticing I was now awake, my cat doubled down.“Angela, tell the old woman to get off at this exit!”

Paisley barked in an extra hyper, extra high pitch, the way she did whenever she was too excited to form actual words.

My head pounded as I tried to figure out where we were and what time it was. The night sky still hung dark above us, the road empty, and yet all of my companions seemed to be wide awake.

“Angela, take the wheel! We’re almost to the exit! We can’t miss it!” my cat continued to caterwaul.

I glanced over to Nan who appeared to be flagging behind the wheel. Her hands hung loosely over the steering column as she drove with her wrists at ten and two.

“Nan!” I cried. “You should have woken me up!”

“Huh? What?” She turned to look at me for just the briefest of moments, but it was enough.

Thump, thump! Thump!

The car jerked off the road and into the ditch at the shoulder.

Paisley let out a panicked yelp.

Octo-Cat hissed.

And I held on for dear life.

Then the airbags deployed, waking up my senses and grounding me in our terrible new reality. We’d crashed!

Nan sobbed beside me.“My poor, poor baby. What have I done to you?” Once again she was talking to her car.

It would be up to me to take stock and make sure nobody was hurt.

“Paisley?” I called, knowing instantly that she was most at risk given her less than five-pound frame.

“That was scary,” she whimpered from behind me. “I fell on the floor, but it only hurt a little.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, then took another deep breath before asking,“Octo-Cat? Are you okay?”

“I am not happy about this turn of events, Angela,” he growled. It wasn’t his usual peeved-off growl, but rather something low, deep, and incredibly intimidating. Oh no. What now?

When I turned around, my neck twinged in pain, but I was able to see that he was still sitting on the seat with his claws sunk deep into the leather upholstery.

Bits of cushion popped through where his claws had snagged the seating. I picked up a blanket from the floor and tossed it over the seat so Nan wouldn’t notice. She was already worked up enough without seeing this particular display.

“I am outraged!” my cat informed me from beneath the blanket before popping his head out a moment later. He left his body covered as he lectured me for this latest indignity. “When I requested we make a pit stop, it was so that we could see the largest aquarium in the state. Not for whatever this was.”

“The largest… in the state? Where are we?” I wondered aloud. I knew we were somewhere between our home in Maine and Grizabella’s in Colorado, but where?

“Michi-bun,” Paisley provided. “At least that’s what Nan said when we passed a big sign a while ago. Welcome to Michi-bun.”

Michigan. That put us a little less than halfway into our journey, which also meant that despite our best attempts, we were making terrible time.

I shot daggers at my cat, realizing that for all the anger he had toward me right now, I had far more reason to be upset with him.“All this screaming and fuss was about an aquarium which wouldn’t even be open at this time of night. Seriously? You have an aquarium back home!”

“It’s not the largest one in the state, though. I want to see this one.”

“Not a chance.” I whipped back to face front. Ouch, my poor neck. “You’ll be lucky if we even still get to see Grizabella at this point.”

“Nooooooooooo!” he screamed, launching himself into my lap, claws still extended. “You can’t do that to me.”

“Ouch. Bad kitty!” I spat as I grabbed him off my lap and returned him to the back seat. My neck twisted in pain.

“Nan,” I nudged, noticing her still hunched over the deployed airbag, stroking the car’s dashboard. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but my poor girl is a wreck.”

“It’ll be okay. This is what insurance is for,” I offered with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “We need to focus on getting some help. Should I look up a tow place on my phone?”

“No,” she said with another sniff and a sob. “I have a friend in the area. She’ll come and get us.”

“Okay, but you should probably call now. We don’t know how much damage has been done to the car or how long it will take to get it road-ready again.”

She shook her head and a fresh rivulet of tears ran down both cheeks.“I’m so sorry about this, dear. I should have asked you to take over, but I didn’t think I was that tired.”

“It’s okay. Really. Accidents happen,” I said, although I couldn’t ever remember when one had happened to me. “We’re all fine. That’s what counts.”

Nan unbuckled her seatbelt and got out to observe the damage.

I followed suit, my feet sinking into the spring mud with a squelching sound.

“I don’t know what happened,” she muttered, staring at the immobilized vehicle with a dumbfounded expression. “I wasn’t even that tired. I—”

What had happened couldn’t be changed. Now it was up to me to keep Nan from descending into a vicious spiral of guilt.

“You don’t have to explain,” I assured her, coming to stand at her side. “I understand, and it’s going to be okay. But we need somebody to come get us. Here. Give me your phone.”

She reached into her front pocket and took it out, then handed it over to me.

“Thank you. Now what’s the name of your friend who’s going to come get us?”

“Melissa,” she said with a small sigh. “She usually goes to sleep pretty early, but she gave me her night owl husband’s number for emergencies.”

“Well, I’d definitely say this qualifies.” I thumbed through the contacts until I found Melissa and then Melissa’s Husband.

I’d wait until later to ask Nan why she had the number of some guy way out in Michigan as an emergency contact. Because whatever her reason for taking such a strange precaution, she’d definitely been right to do it.

Chapter Twelve

Nan’s friend appeared about forty minutes later with her whole family in tow. “Climb in,” she said, pointing to the cluttered back rows of the giant SUV. “Sorry about the mess.”

I got in beside a little girl who was fast asleep with a glistening bead of drool dribbling off one pouty lip.

“Couldn’t leave her at home,” Melissa said, watching me while Nan stood with Melissa’s husband inspecting the damage from the accident. “Nan called me, but I don’t actually drive, so we all had to come.”

“I’m not getting in there. It smells like dog,” Octo-Cat informed me from outside. His nose wrinkled in disgust, and once again, I was more than a little relieved that other people couldn’t understand him.

I sighed instead of answering. He knew I couldn’t talk to him in front of people who didn’t know my secret, but that never stopped him from complaining, endlessly complaining.

“Aren’t you worried your cat will run away?” Melissa asked, glancing from him to me with a worried expression. Both tall and thick, she was a big woman, but the biggest part of her was the earnest smile she wore as she greeted me.

“He’ll be fine,” I said for both of them.

That was when Paisley ran over, tail wagging wildly, to say hello to the new arrivals.

“Oh my gosh!” Melissa cried in such a high-pitched voice it made my ears rings. “Who is this sweet angel baby?”

“That’s Nan’s dog, Paisley,” I supplied.

“Well, of course it is.” Melissa scooped the happy Chihuahua up into her arms and let Paisley lick her face. I noticed that her baggy T-shirt read Crazy Chihuahua Lady in big blocky letters. No wonder she and Nan were friends.

“Oh, you are the sweetiest-beatiest,” she squealed. Both she and Paisley seemed to shake with happiness. Was this woman so obsessed with Chihuahuas that she had even started to act like them? Funny.

“I like her,” Paisley said with a happy bark.

“She looks just like my Sky Princess,” Melissa informed me with that ever-present smile. “You’ll meet her when we take you back to our place for a rest while your car is being worked on. See…” She motioned toward the banged-up sports car. “This is why I don’t drive.”

Nan returned with Melissa’s husband, and they climbed into the SUV.

“C’mon, Octo-Cat,” I called and clicked my tongue.

Thankfully, he decided it was better to listen to me than to be left alone on the side of the road and complied.

Melissa leaned forward from the back row and bumped my shoulder.“Wow, he really listens. Almost like a dog.”

“A dog!?” Octo-Cat shrieked. “That’s it. Let me out of here. I don’t want to spend another second with this crazy woman.”

“Hush. It’s fine,” I murmured, the weight of my fatigue weighing heavily now that I was sitting back down.

Melissa gasped but said nothing for the rest of the drive back to her home more than half an hour away.

When we arrived, we were greeted by the loudest chorus of barking I’d ever heard in my life. A moment later, five dogs ran outside to say hello.

“You have five dogs now?” Nan asked with a chuckle, scratching some kind of mixed breed with multi-color eyes behind the ears.

“Seven, actually,” Melissa corrected. “The Chihuahuas are inside because they’re not strong enough to push through the dog door on their own.”

“She’s insane,” Octo-Cat choked out. “Certifiably insane. I refuse to step paw into that house.”

“It’s already the middle of the night,” Nan said with a sigh. “I do appreciate you coming to our rescue, but I hope we don’t have to wait until morning to get someone to look at the car.”

“C’mon, there’s at least twenty mechanics within ten miles of us. I’m sure someone will be open and able to take us,” Melissa’s husband said after he’d returned from taking his daughter to bed.

“I’ll be back,” Nan told me before climbing back into the front seat of the enormous SUV and disappearing.

“So…” Melissa said, her eyes wide and mischievous. “You’re Nan’s granddaughter, right?”

Leave it to Nan not to properly introduce us.“That’s me. My name’s Angie.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper as we climbed the twisty steps toward the front door.“Are you the one who can… you know? Talk to… well, you know?”

Anger flared in my chest, but I did my best to swallow it back down. Was Nan seriously entrusting random people across the country with my biggest secret? It seemed like she wasn’t even all that close with Melissa, given how surprised Melissa had been to meet Paisley and how Nan couldn’t even remember exactly how many dogs these people had.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Melissa said with a conspiratorial grin. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I would never tell anyone. Well, except for my husband and daughter, of course. I tell them everything.”

Great. So at least three other people knew, and one of them was just a kid. First or second grade, tops. Kids had no filters. Not exactly the best people to trust with secrets.

Melissa flung the door open with a“ta-da,” and I glanced into the dark house, expecting to see her dogs lined up to greet me.

What I actually saw was far, far worse…

Octo-Cat must have crept up the stairs behind us because he now let out a mighty growl and jumped—literally jumped—into a thin tree that lined the front stairs.

“It’s my worst nightmare come to life,” he howled.

I wanted to tell him that we wouldn’t be here long, that he had nothing to worry about, but I honestly didn’t know how badly busted Nan’s car was or whether Melissa’s husband was right about being able to find a mechanic at this hour. So instead I left him clinging to the tree as Paisley and I followed Melissa into the houseand shut the door behind us.

Hopefully his worst nightmare wouldn’t also prove to be mine.

Chapter Thirteen

“What are you doing in my houssssse?” hissed a Maine Coon cat, who looked a lot like Octo-Cat except he was at least twice as big, twice as fluffy, and twice as intimidating.

After demanding I explain my presence, he marched straight up to Paisley and batted her in the face. He didn’t growl or take out his claws, but the maneuver still felt extremely aggressive.

“Ttccch!” Melissa said, and the cat skittered away, choosing a place midway up the staircase to keep an eye on us.

“This is my house. I am the king!” the cat said, wagging his tail wildly.

I watched him wearily, worried he might make another move to dominate Paisley if we weren’t careful. Thank goodness, Octo-Cat had chosen to stay outside. This was one fight I knew he wouldn’t be able to win.

“I decide who comes and goes, and I did not approve your entry,” he meowed. “If you want to stay, you must give me a treat stick.”

“Oh my gosh,” Melissa said with a gasp, raising a hand to her heart. “He’s talking to you, isn’t he? Merlin’s talking, and you’re understanding! What is he saying? What does he want?”

I was hesitant to admit that her cat was coming off like a major jerk, but I was even more hesitant to talk about this at all. This person was still little more than a stranger to me, and yet she knew the most intimate, private thing about me. This wasn’t right.

“Well?” Melissa asked with that wide smile of hers.

I sighed.“He wants a treat stick.”

She chuckled.“Well, of course he does. Come with me, and I’ll show you the procedure.”

She then walked me through the exact way Merlin preferred to be offered his special treat sticks, including where to stand when I was opening it, how fast to walk toward the cat tower where he preferred to take the treat, and precisely how long to hold it in my hand before dropping it for him to do the rest of the work.

Man, for not being able to speak to his humans, this Merlin sure knew how to communicate his needs.

“I’m going to let the dogs in now, okay?” Melissa announced, once we’d completed the offering to her cat.

I hadn’t realized they weren’t with us, but the second she opened the sliding glass door, I realized just how quiet the house had been without them.

Paisley immediately rolled onto her back and let the others sniff her as she wagged and wiggled. A fat corgi sniffed her so vigorously that he flipped her over by accident.

“This is great,” Nan’s little dog cried. “I’ve always wanted to go to doggie daycare.”

I sighed. Well, seeing as my secret was out anyway, I may as well talk back to her.“It’s not daycare. It’s just—”

Paisley jumped to her feet with a bark so loud, I took a step back in shock.“It’s the dog from the mirror! Bark, bark, bark!”

Sure enough, a nearly identical mostly black tricolor Chihuahua came galloping over. She barked once and then began to kick up her back legs in a comical display of scratching and snuffling that was most likely meant to be intimidating.

“No, you’re the dog from the mirror!” she barked at Paisley.

“Sky Princess,” Melissa scolded. “Come here.”

The little dog whined and struggled for a moment before settling into her human’s arms.

“Pick me up! Pick me up!” Paisley begged, standing on her hind legs and pawing me while she whimpered.

The moment I did, both dogs resumed barking and accusing each other of being mirror dogs again.

“Oh, boy. It’s a good thing my daughter is such a deep sleeper, otherwise I’d be afraid they’d wake her up,” Melissa said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s way past bedtime for this crew, too. Let me tuck them into their crates, and then we should have some peace and quiet.”

Once that was done, we settled in across from each other at the kitchen table. Melissa offered me a cold can of Diet Coke from the fridge, which I gratefully accepted.

“So how are things with you?” she asked as if we were old friends. “I can’t imagine it’s easy living with someone as colorful as your nan.”

I chuckled at this. Even though her prying made me uncomfortable, it didn’t seem nice to respond by saying that I couldn’t imagine living with a small zoo in my house the way she did.

Just then, a loud thump whomped into the window, and I jumped in my seat.“What was that? I thought you put all the dogs to bed?”

Melissa pushed her chair out behind her and stomped over to the kitchen window.“Seriously, dude! At this time?” she practically shouted. Looked like her cat wasn’t the only one around here who’d gone crazy.

She groaned and returned to me with a bemused expression.“That was Murder Robin,” she explained as if that clarified everything. It didn’t.

I stopped myself before taking another sip from my soda, just in case she was about to tell me something so shocking I wouldn’t be able to swallow properly.

Finally, she offered more.“He’s been coming here every spring and summer for the last several years. He spends all day thumping up against our kitchen windows, and all night hurling himself at our bedroom window.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

She shrugged.“Birds are weird. You’d think he’d just find somewhere new to roost, but you know how territorial birds can get.”

I nodded as I considered this. So, this crazy bird would rather sustain an injury by fighting a battle there was no way he could win than to… simply migrate into a new home?

That was weird, but it also made me think.

If birds were this crazy territorial, then why would the flock that previously held the Dewdrop Springs territory back home just up and disappear? Alpha, Bravo, and the others had seemed totally unbothered by the fact that they’d gone, but it wasn’t normal for birds to leave their homes without a very good reason. And judging by Murder Robin’s actions, “very good” was definitely relative.

This suggested that Charles’s suspicion was right. Something fishy was going on with the seagulls. Hopefully Pringle could uncover the truth before time ran out.

Now all we needed to do was find him and convince him to help…

Chapter Fourteen

About an hour and a half later, Nan returned from the mechanic with Melissa’s husband in tow.

“They fixed my girl up as best they could,” she said with a far-off glance that may or may not have hid tears threatening to spill. “One of the tires blew out, but the engine is fine. They swapped it out and said I’ll have to get the upholstery in the back seat fixed once we’re back home again.”

“That’s good, right?” I asked, more than ready to be on our way. Melissa was nice and all, but she was Nan’s friend—not mine. Besides, I was worried about Octo-Cat skulking off by himself in the unfamiliar woods outside.

“It’ll drive fine,” she said with a dejected sigh. I knew how much that little sports coupe meant to her, but it would be completely fixed soon enough. Besides, maybe now she’d agree to stop off at a hotel so we could both rest properly between shifts.

“Then let’s go. I’m wide awake now.” I smiled back at Melissa, hoping she wouldn’t find my eagerness to get back on the road offensive. “Thanks so much for your hospitality and for the company.”

She gave me a quick hug, which surprised me as I was not exactly the hugging strangers type.“I’m so jealous of you,” she whispered into my ear. “What you can do is so cool. I’d love to talk to you about it more sometime.”

And then pulling away, she finished at full volume,“Nan knows where to find me online. Oh, before you go, let me load you up with some treats for you and the pets.”

And about twenty minutes later, we were back on the expressway.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just head home?” I asked as I took a swig from one of the cold brew coffees Melissa had sent with us. “We’ve been through a lot already and we’re still only halfway there.”

“You may think you’ve been through a lot,” Octo-Cat shouted. “But you didn’t have to wait around outside back there. Consider yourself lucky that the other guy wasn’t an outdoors cat, otherwise things would have gotten really ugly.”

“Stop complaining and have a treat stick,” I said with a smirk. “Um, can you toss him one, Nan?”

Unsurprisingly, Octo-Cat enjoyed this strange Slim Jim like treat just as much as Melissa’s cat Merlin had. And it took him a bit longer to eat this thing than one of his smaller treats, which meant it gave us a few minutes of blessed silence every time we tossed him a new one. Honestly, this discovery alone was worth the unplanned detour.

“We may as well keep going, seeing as we have a long drive ahead of us either way,” Nan said after unwrapping the kitty treat stick and chucking it into the back seat.

“Get some sleep if you can,” I told her, setting the bottle of coffee into the cup holder and returning both hands to the wheel. “I’m wide awake for now, but I promise I’ll get you up the moment I feel too tired to keep going. We can decide then if you’re going to take over or if we should stop and rest for a while.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed, then leaned her seat back as far as it would go and left me to my own thoughts.

I had enough to think about to keep myself occupied for a while. Not only was there the seagulls’ original case but also the mystery of what had happened to that other flock. And we still needed to find Pringle and convince him to spy on our behalf.

On an unrelated note, Nan and I needed to have a very long talk about her revealing my ability to talk with animals to anyone really, but especially to strangers over the Internet. I shuddered to think of the dangers her loose lips could mean for me in the future. Sometimes my octogenarian grandmother acted like a little kid, I swear.

How could she not know that random people on the Internet weren’t to be trusted with the intimate details of our lives?

Yes, we’d gotten lucky this time, seeing as her friends in Michigan had proven to be helpful—and while a little animal-crazy, at least they weren’t full-on psychopaths.

But how many others had she also told?

As much as I wanted to jump into this topic with Nan right now, I also knew it would be better to wait until we’d finished our trip and were back home. We already had one accident under our belts, and I wasn’t eager to add another.

Because Nan had already hooked my phone to the Bluetooth in her car, I was easily able to pull up my favorite 80s love ballads playlist and send it piping through the speakers. The emotional, up-tempo songs kept me company while the others slept in bursts and fits, each occasionally waking up to chat with me for a few minutes before drifting back to the sandman.

When the sound of my phone ringing drowned out the music a couple of hours later, I was so surprised I almost didn’t realize what was happening.

Nan snorted in her sleep, leaned forward to press a button on the stereo, and then settled back in her seat.

“Hello? Angie?” Charles’s voice called out, unsure.

“Yes, it’s me. Hi!” I tightened both hands on the wheel.

“It’s not too early. Is it?”

“No, I’ve been up for hours.” I considered telling him about our accident and the detour that had followed, but I didn’t want to worry him when there was nothing he could do from back in Maine. I’d catch him up on our random Midwest adventure later. We had enough to focus on right now as it was.

Charles let out a soft sigh.“Good. Well, I decided to wake up early and swing by your house before heading to the firm, and it’s a good thing I did, because I found Pringle.”

My heart sped up a little at this announcement. At least one thing was now going our way.“You found him? Did he listen to my message? Is he there now?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Charles responded with a laugh that made me yearn for him. It was strange how someone I hadn’t even known about a year ago had now become such an integral part of my world. “Do you want to talk with him?”

“Yes, but hang on. I’m going to pull over to the side of the road. Can you wait a few minutes then call me back on FaceTime?” It was always easiest to talk to animals if I could also see them, and I definitely needed every advantage I could get when it came to negotiating with the greedy trickster of a raccoon.

Yes, we needed his help, but I also knew that it would come with a price. His help always came with a price, which is why he had two custom treehouses, two big-screen televisions, two rapid-firing Nerf guns—one of which was named Carla—and countless other doubles of the types of belongings you would never think a raccoon even needed in the first place.

He had two of practically everything because, in Pringle’s mind, if it was worth doing, then it was worth overdoing. I was definitely thankful he and Nan couldn’t speak directly to each other, at least not without looping me in as a translator. Together, they’d not only live the most charmed, extra existence possible, but they’d also blab my secrets to the whole entire world…

That is if they hadn’t done so already. And that was a massive if.

My stomach churned at the memory of how cavalier Melissa had been in discussing facts she shouldn’t have even been privy to. One thing at a time, I reminded myself and let out a ragged breath.

We hadn’t even made it to Colorado yet, and already I couldn’t wait to be back home.

Chapter Fifteen

I had to wait a couple minutes for Charles’s return call after pulling over to the shoulder of the highway. Nan woke up and offered to take the wheel, but I figured it would be best to have this call while fully stopped. I’d have hated for her to get distracted and crash the car a second time.

When at last he called again, Charles seemed to be out of breath.“Sorry… for the… wait,” he said between gasps for air. His face was red from exertion and he wore a pained expression.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I tried to keep the worry from my features. After all, he could see me, too.

“Yeah, it is now. That bird caught up with me, and I had to fight him off with a broom.” The redness began to fade from his face and he smiled, but I still had concerns.

“What?” I shouted.

“Eck, too loud!” Octo-Cat moaned behind me, but I pointedly ignored him.

“He tried getting in through the pet door, but not to worry. I got him back out again.”

I was most definitely worried but also knew I needed to speak with Pringle before he grew impatient and scampered off to do something else. If he got away now, who knew when we’d be able to find him again? Charles was already working at a disadvantage not being able to speak to the raccoon or seagulls directly, after all.

“If you’re sure you’re okay,” I said with a frown, and then, “Hand the phone to Pringle. He’ll know what to do.”

The camera maneuvered quickly, showing me an impromptu tour of my own living room from odd angles. A few seconds later, a masked face with beady eyes filled the screen.

“Commander, that you?” he asked with a voice that sounded more 1940s gangster than it did spy operative. My gimmicky presentation had clearly resonated with him, which meant it would be far easier to get him to follow orders.

“Affirmative.” I leveled my eyes and pushed my mouth into a straight serious line.

“I got your message before it could self-destruct,” he said in a garbled whisper, then glanced to both sides before turning back to me. “You said you had an assignment for me?”

“10-4.” I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded right. “Uh, are you ready to hear the details?”

Pringle winked.“Darling, I was born ready… Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me!”

Drats. That was the one downside of FaceTime. I couldn’t keep playing this ridiculous role while also keeping a straight face. “Permission to speak plainly?” I asked in a desperate ploy to keep us on task, then held my breath as I waited for him to acknowledge my request.

The raccoon sighed, then nodded.“Granted.”

“We need your help finding out what happened to that missing flock.”

A slow, wicked smile stretched across the raccoon’s face. “So I hear. I can help, but it’ll cost you.”

Of course it would. Pringle had never done something out of the goodness of his heart. Not once. But at least he was relatively easy to convince if the price was right.

“Fine,” I said, but I wasn’t in much of a place to negotiate with him from the side of the road, mid-trip. “We’ll figure out your payment when I get back. Okay?”

He jerked his head sharply to the side and thrust his nose into the air.“Not okay. If you want my help, we make our contract now.”

I sighed and rubbed at the bridge of my nose.“What do you want?”

Again he smiled wickedly.“Actually, I was hoping for—”

“Wait!” Charles interjected and then presumably foisted his phone from the raccoon’s grasp because a moment later his face filled the screen. “He’s asking for payment, right?”

Whether he figured this out from my end of the conversation, our previous dealings with Pringle, or both, Charles clearly understood that I was in the midst of negotiating.

“Yup. Got any ideas?” I sure hoped he did because I had nothing.

Pringle’s fingers writhed in front of the screen and he shouted, “I already know what I want. Give it back!”

Charles, of course, didn’t know what he was saying, and even if he had, probably wouldn’t have agreed to it, anyway. He rose to his feet, out of reach of the raccoon, and continued, “The seagulls offered to arrange something as a thank-you. Remember?”

Oh, that was right! Seeing as neither Charles nor I were even remotely interested in whatever dumpster fire the birds gifted us, it made sense to offer it to Pringle. It might just save us from having to agree to something pricey that a raccoon had no business ever owning, like a motorcycle or a robot. And given his odd predilection for doubling up whenever possible, he’d likely demand two, if given the chance.

“Good idea,” I said with a smile. I loved how my boyfriend not only accepted my strange ability but was a true champ at rolling with the punches. “Give the phone back to him now.”

Pringle appeared a few seconds later with a huff.

“Now as I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted…” He paused and glanced up with a scowl—at Charles, I guessed.

“Hold it right there,” I said before he could continue, then waited for him to clamp his mouth shut to deliver my offer. “A secret spy mission calls for something extra valuable. Wouldn’t you say?”

I had his attention now.

“Go on.” The words rolled out smooth and glib.

“We’ve been promised a secret treasure.” I widened my eyes to punctuate this revelation.

“A secret treasure. Interesting.” Pringle rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What is it?”

“Nobody knows. That’s what makes it so exciting.”

The raccoon narrowed his eyes at me.“Hey, you’re not trying to pull one over on me, are you?”

I shook my head adamantly.“No, of course not!”

“Hmmm…” Pringle rubbed at his chin some more. His lips began to move as he mouthed words, but no sound came out. Finally he smiled and said, “Okay, sold.”

“Excellent.”

He switched from business mode to action mode so quickly, the change was almost visible on his face.“Now where can I find that flock?”

I filled him in on all the details—or at least as many as I could without losing his attention—and suggested he start by heading over to Dewdrop Springs. “I’m on it,” Pringle promised before dropping the phone to the ground and scampering off.

Crash! The sound of the phone colliding with the hardwood floorboards sounded like a peal of thunder on my end of the call.

“My phone!” Charles cried from his side.

I couldn’t help but laugh as he retrieved the fallen gadget and searched it for any signs of damage.

“Not funny,” he said but laughed along with me. “I sure do miss you. Have a great time, but hurry home, okay?”

I agreed, and we said goodbye. A huge part of me wished I’d never agreed to this trip in the first place. But I saw Charles live and in person several times each week. Octo-Cat only ever got to speak with his girlfriend over the Internet. They needed this trip to keep their relationship strong. As obnoxious as my cat had been this entire trip, at leasthe was happy. That made my short-term discomfort worth it, especially if the two cats had a great time this week.

“I’ll need a payment, too, and you can’t trick me like you did the raccoon,” Octo-Cat informed me from his place in the torn-up back seat, proving that he couldn’t go longer than a few minutes without complaining about or demanding something.

I didn’t turn to look at him, because I knew it would send a new pain twinging down my neck. Stupid car accident. Maybe Grizabella’s human could recommend a good chiropractor while we were in Colorado because I needed to do something to treat this pain, and I really didn’t want to have to endure another long drive and a whole week of waiting before getting it.

“I’m not paying you anything,” I muttered and stretched my arms out in front of me with a yawn.

He tsked and declared,“Ah, ah, ah. Finder’s fee. It was my idea to bring him in, wasn’t it?”

Darn it. I really couldn’t argue with him on that one.

Chapter Sixteen

Somewhere amid the rolling hills of Iowa, we finally settled into our drive. In fact, I didn’t even argue when Octo-Cat asked to listen to his audiobook a second time.

“I just want to make sure I’m one hundred percent prepared to woo and wow my love, Grizabella,” he explained with a contented sigh.

And it could have been a byproduct of just how boring it was to drive on the expressway for thirty-plus hours at a stretch, but the things Dr. Roman was saying actually started to make sense the second time around.

Romance is a verb because it requires action.

On the surface level, Charles battling the seagulls on my behalf wasn’t exactly romantic. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was the best gift he’d ever given me. In just about a week’s time, I could be standing face to face with my long-lost biological grandmother, and it would be because Charles had stepped up to help.

I owed him one heck of a souvenir from Boulder, although I already knew nothing could come close to what he’d already freely offered me and my family.

“Nan,” I asked after internally debating whether I should broach this topic at all. Ultimately, I knew it would eat at my insides until I finally let it out. “Are you sure you’re okay with me reaching out to my other grandmother?”

She was the one driving now, and as much as I didn’t want to upset her by talking about difficult topics, I just couldn’t get this particular one off my mind. If anyone could understand the need to let it all out, it was my nan. She had a habit of letting it all hang out—for better or for worse—and her choosing to share my secret with her online friends was even more proof of that. Still, as angry as I was with her for that, I would never voluntarily hurt her feelings. I needed to know I had her blessing for whatever happened next with my bio grandma. I needed to hear her say it was okay and to believe her when she said it.

Nan clenched the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Not a good sign.“It was wrong of me to keep her from you for this long. I just hope you and your mother can one day forgive me for that.”

“We already have,” I promised, placing a hand on her shoulder so she could feel all the love I had for her, still and always.

She sighed and adjusted her grip on the wheel, returning her knuckles to their usual pale flesh color.“You, maybe. But it will take your mother a bit longer, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I insisted, my voice strong and sure.

“No,” Nan snapped, which startled me.

“No?”

“She’s right to be angry. In fact, I’m surprised you aren’t more upset with me, dear.”

“You did a bad thing, but you did it for the right reasons.” The truth was I just didn’t have it in me to be angry with her. At least not for the long term. I’d already worked through all those feelings and was ready to move forward. Nan, however, seemed to carry a heavy burden of guilt that had only gotten heavier as the years passed.

“Maybe at first,” she agreed, tightening her grip on the wheel once more, “but I acted selfishly all the same. When she came searching for Laura in New York and your grandfather and I chose to run away rather than meet her face-to-face.”

“But how could you know what she wanted? Or whether she’d press charges? Heck, even why Grandpa McAllister lied to you in the first place?”

I still remembered that autumn evening when Pringle had offered the stolen letter that revealed Nan wasn’t my grandmother by blood. She’d been tricked into taking my mother at her oldest and best friend’s request. Once I learned about this, Charles and I tried to track the old man down, but it was too late. He’d already passed, leaving the reason behind his actions a mystery that only the wronged mother—my real grandmother—could illuminate for us.

While terrible, none of these revelations made me love Nan any less. She’d raised me. She’d given me nearly thirty years of true unconditional love, had always been my biggest support and my closest friend. Maybe our family started as a lie, but it had grown into something much more.

I longed to meet the missing woman who shared my DNA, to give her some kind of closure and offer back a small part of what had been stolen from her, but not if it hurt the one person who mattered most in my world—Nan.

“I didn’t know,” she said hardly above a whisper. “But I also didn’t try very hard to find out. I fell in love with your mother from day one, and that was that. I would have done anything to keep her with us.”

“We’ll find out soon. Bravo will make sure of it. He says he’s been following her for even longer than he’s been following me, and he’s had his eyes on me ever since I first met Octo-Cat. When he leads us to her, we can ask why William would have done what he did. I’m sure he had his reasons, whatever they were.”

Nan shrugged, but the tension in her form remained.“I accept whatever happens next, and I’ll support you and your mother as you repair your family.”

“She can’t replace you. That’s not why we want to meet her.”

“I know.” Nan flashed me a sad smile, then returned her focus to the road. How I wished I could hug her right now, but my words would have to be enough until we made our next pit stop.

“I love y—”

“I’ve gotta make!” Octo-Cat yowled at the top of his lungs, completely ruining the emotional, heartfelt moment. “I’ve gotta make! Pull over, pull over! I need my litter box, and I need it now.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Leave it to the cat to make everything about himself every second of every day.“Nan, can you stop?”

She chuckled.“I may not know what he’s saying, but I can definitely tell it’s urgent.” She changed lanes and pulled to the shoulder without delay.

“Do you need the pee pad?” I asked as I unbuckled myself.

“No, I need my litter box,” he insisted, his voice cold with fury. “And if you don’t give it to me, I’ll go right here in the car, and you’ll have to smell it the rest of the trip.”

Wonderful. While I normally wasn’t one to negotiate with terrorists, Nan’s poor car had already been through enough.

I was also emotionally drained from the tender conversation we’d just had.

So I gritted my teeth and set up Octo-Cat’s box with a thin layer of litter. We could toss the soiled bit at the next rest stop and pick up a fresh bag once we reached Colorado if needed.

At least we were more than three-quarters of the way there. Then again, we were only three-quarters of the way there! We still had several more hours to go, even though it felt like it had been at least a week since we set off yesterday morning. Seriously, we hadn’t even reached our destination, and already I’d had more than enough of this road trip.

Admittedly, he’d come a long way since our first couple of drives together. He could even handle the trip without being dosed with sleepy medicine. Those things helped, but being locked in a tin can with him for hours on end would never be pleasant, no matter what precautions we made.

All this meant that next time Octo-Cat wanted to see Grizabella, she could come to us. And if he wanted to go anywhere else, we’d be flying—and that was that.

Chapter Seventeen

I slipped into the driver’s seat for a couple quick hours, then Nan got behind the wheel again as we made our final approach into Boulder.

Charles texted a few times to check in on us and give me updates about his day. Basically Bravo continued to be glued to his side no matter where he went, and Pringle hadn’t yet returned from his reconnaissance mission. I didn’t particularly like either of these facts, but I also couldn’t say I was surprised. At least I’d finally be in a stationary location and easier for him to reach if he needed my help.

We were so close now, and I for one couldn’t wait to get out of the moving death box that I had called home for the last two days. Yes, our accident, while minor, had definitely riled me up.

And I wasn’t the only one facing newfound anxieties…

Once we’d reached the city proper, Octo-Cat began hissing and panting in the back seat. His tongue lolled right out of his mouth as he struggled to take short, shallow breaths.

“Oh, goodie!” Paisley squealed with delight. “Octavius is pretending to be a dog. Look at me! I can show you how, big brother. Heh. Heh. Heh.”

I glanced over and found that her small pink tongue was now also lolling from her mouth as her whole body wriggled with excitement.

Octo-Cat, on the other hand, looked like he was going to be sick.

“Paisley, give him some space,” I instructed.

The little dog moved to the other side of the bench seat and quirked her head.“Why? Is something wrong with him, Mommy?”

“Can’t…” the tabby gasped dramatically. “Breathe…”

I pushed my seat back as far as it would go, turned on my side, and pulled Octo-Cat to my chest. Holding on tight, I righted the seat again and set him carefully on my lap.

“Do we need to stop?” I asked, watching him closely as he continued to wheeze and gasp.

“N-n-no. Just… Nerv… ous.”

“He’s got the love butterflies!” Paisley announced with a bark. “Just like the romance doctor said!”

I scratched Octo-Cat behind his ears, feeling fondness for him swell in my chest. He didn’t often show his vulnerabilities, but whenever he did, I loved him all the better for it.

“Is this true? Do you have the love butterflies?” While not exactly how Dr. Roman had described that jittery feeling associated with romantic love, it was how we had translated the content for Paisley. She’d immediately understood and explained that she felt love butterflies every single second she was near me or Nan or Octo-Cat. Our little love bug.

Octo-Cat simply nodded in response to my question.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I assured the lovesick cat now. “Grizabella already adores you. And you’ve put in so much extra work listening to Dr. Roman’s book, making that huge list of everything you needed to show her the perfect vacation, plus I happen to know for a fact that nobody can love her like you can.”

He closed his eyes and pushed his ears back against his head. He took a few moments to steady his breathing, then opened his bright eyes again and asked,“Are you sure? Grizabella is so glamorous, and I’m just a normal cat. I even think I gained a few ounces since our last meeting. Now I’m just a stupid flabby tabby.”

I wanted to laugh at the rhyme—especially since I often called him crabby tabby behind his back—but I controlled myself as I continued to stroke his soft fur. Because of his added anxiety, he’d begun shedding like crazy, and a little storm cloud of loose hair hovered over us.

“Grizabella chose you for your heart. Plus I may be biased here, but I think you’re the best cat in the whole entire world.”

He looked up at me, his amber eyes wide and glistening.“But am I the best cat who’s ever lived?” he asked seriously.

“Y-yes?”

“Are you sure?”

He caught me off guard, but I recovered nicely, smiling as I assured,“Positive, and I know Grizabella would agree.”

Octo-Cat sat up in my lap, his breathing now fully back to normal and his tongue safely tucked inside his mouth.“You packed my bowties, right? I want to wear the blue to match my lady love’s eyes.”

“I have them both right here in my purse. Would you like me to help you put the blue one on now?”

“Yes, please.”

Wow, he almost never said please and usually only said thank you sarcastically. Maybe he was practicing good manners on me so that he’d be ready to play the perfect gentleman for Grizabella. Or maybe he simply realized how much I did for him and how grateful he was to have me in his life.

Okay, yeah, it was definitely the first thing, but still.

I fished the silky blue bowtie out of my purse and fastened it around his neck. Even I had to admit that he looked incredibly handsome in this get-up.

“You look all grown up, Octavius,” Paisley said, when Octo-Cat leaped into the backseat to rejoin her.

“I am all grown up. And so are you.” He sneered, then broke into a good-natured smile. “But I know what you meant. Thank you.”

“Grizzly-bella is going to give you soooo many face licks,” Paisley promised with a wink. “She won’t be able to keep her paws off you, you hunka-hunka burning love!”

Octo-Cat hung his head and chuckled, then whipped it back and let out a full-bellied laugh.

I translated for Nan, and then we joined in the laughter, too.

The things that came out of these animals’ mouths sometimes! I wouldn’t change either of them for the world. No, not even Octo-Cat and his incessant complaining. Changing that would be changing him, and I was a firm believer that we always wound up with the people and animals we needed to have in our lives.

Just like Octo-Cat and Grizabella had met and fallen in love on that one strange train trip that got neither of us to our intended destination. But they had found each other.

And now months later, the feline lovers would have their first romantic trip together. What a world.

During this whole exchange, Nan had doggedly pressed on toward our destination. And now the busy commercial district gave way to a quieter suburban street. The houses here were much more modern looking than the giant manors back home, but they had been well kept and boasted tidy lawns and colorful flowerbeds. It felt like the kind of place where you could raise a family and raise them well. Even though I would forever be a Maine girl, I instantly liked Colorado. And we hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS announced as we pulled up outside a brick split-level with red shutters and a white picket fence.

Christine came out to meet us while Grizabella waited in the bay window that overlooked the yard.“Welcome, welcome!” she called, saddling first Nan and then me with a gigantic warm hug.

“Grizz has been so excited all day,” she said, beaming at us as if we were all long lost friends reuniting for the first time in ages. “I couldn’t tear her away from that window, and I tried!”

“That’s sweet,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s almost like she knew we were coming, huh?”

Christine’s brown scrunched. “Well, of course she knew you were coming. You told Octavius and he told her.”

“I don’t get what you—”

“Oh, no need to play coy with me.” She waved her hand dismissively as if I were the one speaking out of turn. “Your nan told me all about how you’re the modern-day Doctor Dolittle. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Nan did what? And here I’d naively assumed she’d told her friends in Michigan as a one-off thing. Looked like we’d be having our big conversation much sooner than I’d originally planned.

Chapter Eighteen

Octo-Cat ran straight to the front door, plopped his butt on the welcome mat, and waited for the humans to be done with their requisite greetings. His impatience provided a good excuse for me to get away from Christine and her desire to talk about my not-so-secret ability.

I charged ahead. She, Nan, and Paisley joined me on the porch, and then Christine pushed the door open.

Octo-Cat raced inside like a shot.

There, on the other side of the threshold, sat his lady love, a beautiful Himalayan wearing a Swarovski crystal encrusted collar and sporting a perfectly groomed coat. Her sparkling blue eyes matched Octo-Cat’s bowtie perfectly, and despite the difference in their pedigrees, it was easy to tell they belonged together.

She gracefully moved to her feet, glided forward, and rubbed her flat face all over Octo-Cat’s neck and chest. Both purred so loudly, no one would have been able to get a word in if we’d dared try.

“Oh, my darling Grizabella!” Octo-Cat cried, accepting an enthusiastic lick on the cheek, much as Paisley had predicted.

“Octavius, sweetest,” she chimed, lifting her fluffy tail straight into the air and giving it a happy quiver. “It has been far too long.”

Paisley trotted over, her tail wagging her entire body as she approached.“Hi, Grizzly-bella! I’m Octavius’s kid sister. Nice to meetcha!” She inserted herself right between the lovelorn cats, and I was certain Octo-Cat would hiss and swipe at her for the intrusion.

Instead he put a paw on her back and drew her in for a hug.“Darling, you’ve met Paisley on our video calls.”

“Nice to meet you in person at last, little sister,” Grizabella said with a small bow of her head. “Come. I’ll introduce you to my brothers and sisters.”

All three trod into the screened-in back porch where six other show quality Himalayan cats sat sunning themselves contentedly.

“This is Juliet, Viola, Ophelia, Oberon, Othello, and Hamlet,” she said by way of introduction. “They’re all still active on the circuit. I’m the only one with the distinction of being retired.” She laughed at this, and my pets joined in even though I’d be willing to bet that neither of them understood the joke—I didn’t either.

“C’mon,” Christine said, leading us back toward the entryway. “Let’s get you unpacked while these two lovebirds catch up.”

“Eck!” Octo-Cat screeched. “Being called a bird is even worse than being called a dog.”

“She means well, sweetest,” Grizabella purred at his side. “But we can’t all be blessed with the perfect human companion like you. Can we?”

I stopped in my tracks and jerked my head toward Octo-Cat in complete and utter shock.

“Yeah, I said it,” he growled and curled a lip at me. “And I can just as easily un-say it. Now get out of here while I’m still feeling generous.”

After that accidental confession of his, I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of that day. Despite all his complaints, Octo-Cat not only loved me, he thought I was the best human ever. That meant a lot, considering how difficult he was to please even on his best days.

Once Nan and I had unpacked, Christine offered us tea and cookies. More than once she tried to bring the conversation back around to my gift for talking to animals. And each time I deftly deflected. I needed to speak with Nan about her willingness to share my private business with near strangers before I included Christine in any such talks.

Charles continued to text throughout the day to update me on the non-progress of the seagulls’ case. All he had were the precedents he’d immediately found regarding squatter’s rights in Maine. Unfortunately, he still knew next to nothing about what had happened to the missing flock whose territory was now up for dispute.

Given that Pringle failed to return to my property the night before, we also had no idea whether he’d found something of value or whether he was even still okay… For all we knew, he could have taken a wrong turn and wound up as roadkill. If that had happened because of something I’d asked him to do, I would never forgive myself.

But right now I needed to stop worrying about what could happen and focus on what already had.

Mainly that Nan was sharing my secret with the world… Why?

We both begged off early that night, tired from the long drive and eager to sleep in actual beds again for a change. Christine’s guest room comprised two twin beds, the perfect setup for the conversation we needed to have.

At last, I broached the topic once we’d both changed into our pajamas and settled beneath the hand-made quilts that adorned the matching beds.

“Nan? Why does Christine know about what I can do?”

“It just seemed easier to let her in on it,” my grandmother confessed after turning on her side to face me. “Otherwise this trip would have been quite awkward trying to hide the truth the whole time. And I know Octo-Cat would have driven you crazy with his complaints if we had to spend our nights in a hotel instead of here with his girlfriend.” She shrugged again. “I guess this just seemed like the best option for everyone involved.”

Her answer did not comfort me. In fact, it seemed as if she believed she’d done me a favor. That was definitely not the case. I didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but I did need to make sure she understood.

I tried approaching from a different angle.“Okay, then why did you tell Melissa and her family?”

Nan’s face twisted into a grimace, proving I’d gotten through to her this time. “Oh, that. I’d forgotten I had. It just came up in conversation one day. Sorry about that.”

“Why are you telling people at all? Shouldn’t this be my secret to share?” I watched as her face fell.

She blinked hard.“Oh, dear. You’re right. Of course, you’re right, and I’m sorry if I overstepped. I really didn’t tell that many people, and I made sure none of them lived anywhere near to us. I know how awkward that would make things for you if people we saw every day at the supermarket or the bank or post office knew.”

I sucked in a slow, shaky breath. Confrontation was never easy, least of all with Nan. I needed to say this next part with gentle words but a firm tone.“But, Nan, I don’t want anyone to know, other than the ones I’ve trusted enough to tell myself.”

“Of course not, I’m so sorry. I guess…” She sighed. “I guess I just spent so many years hiding this big important truth that once it was out there I couldn’t help but share everything.”

I smiled to show her I understood, and that even though I definitely didn’t like her actions, I’d already forgiven her for them. “You may have overcorrected there.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” She pulled the quilt up close to her chin and offered a sad smile.

We both lay silent for a couple moments until Nan suddenly popped up in bed and turned to face me with wide eyes. I could practically see the cartoon lightbulb appear over her head.“Tell you what. First of all, I hereby solemnly swear that I won’t tell another soul. You have my word.”

I let out an enormous sigh of relief.“That’s a good start. Thank you.”

She clasped her hands together in her lap and giggled.“And if it ever comes up again, I’ll just tell people that I’ve gone senile. You can toss me in the worst nursing home you can find, and that will be that.”

I gasped.“Nan, you know I would never do that!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll toss myself in.”

“You’re not going to a nursing home.”

“Well, no, because I’m not going to share your secrets anymore. See, it works out for everyone?”

“Love you, Nan.” I said, snapping off the bedside lamp with great satisfaction. If only all conversations went this smoothly, we’d be living in a very different world.

Chapter Nineteen

Octo-Cat and Grizabella began the following day by feasting on jumbo shrimp from a crystal goblet and lying together in a sunbeam most of the afternoon. At night they snuggled up in front of a roaring fire and took turns giving each other tongue baths.

On the third day of our visit, the two kitty lovers strolled through the flowerbeds and ate some grass from the back lawn.

And on the fourth day, they both had upset tummies. This, however, did not stop Octo-Cat from wooing his love by hunting a robin and delivering its carcass for her enjoyment.

Day five is when the anguished mewling began. They both knew their trip was almost up and hated the thought of being separated again so soon after they’d been reunited.

When we began our drive home on day six, poor Octo-Cat was beyond devastated. He hardly spoke at all—not even to complain—the entire drive home. But we couldn’t add even an hour’s delay to our return trip, given the upcoming trial by seagull that awaited us back home. I needed to be there to help Charles deliver his case, or the flock would assuredly wreak unholy terror on us. After all, they’d promised.

Paisley made sure to cuddle and groom Octo-Cat in turns, being the friend he needed but hadn’t quite felt up to asking for. Nan focused on the drive and the new audiobook we’d picked up in town. This one was a sweeping historical saga that actually ran longer than our entire drive time, if you can believe that.

Once home, I had just enough time to take a good two-hour nap before Charles arrived to collect me so we could drive together to the seagulls’ dumpster in Dewdrop Springs.

I gathered my hair in a messy ponytail and pulled on a polka-dotted maxi dress to wear with my thick boots and a coat, and we were off.

“Are you ready for the biggest case of your life?” I joked, happy that it was just me and him in the car and that this drive would only be half an hour instead of thirty-five.

“I’m not ready at all,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. “Pringle never came back.”

“What?” I stared at him as if I’d be able to read the explanation on his face. “But it’s been over a week.”

Charles tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic of his.“I know. That’s why I’m so worried. Do you think something happened to him?”

Dread flooded my gut. For all his faults, Pringle was my friend. A colleague, too. I hated to think that something may have happened to him.

“I’m sure he’s okay.” I forced a smile and placed my hand on Charles’s arm to steady his anxious rapping at the wheel. “He probably just got distracted and lost track of time. That’s all.”

“So what do we do without his evidence? I know none of the facts beyond what we were initially told, and something feels off about the story they told us. If their case is so cut and dry, why do they need us in the first place? Why did that one bird stay on me day in and day out while all the others waited in my yard?”

I knew he would feel better if he had answers going in, but unfortunately there was nothing to be done now. All I could do was try to comfort him and pray this would be finished quickly.“I know you want to do a good job and that you want to be on the side of truth and justice here, but you can only do so much. Present your argument, and then let the birds figure out the rest.”

“I know you’re right. Of course I do, but my intuition keeps gnawing at me. Something’s not right.”

I rubbed his arm soothingly and changed the topic. Talking about all the pieces we didn’t have would only make defending the seagulls’ right to the land that much more difficult for him.

We pulled into the empty strip mall parking lot and found the entire flock waiting for us. Once again, they led us back to the clearing in the field, and there a second even larger flock waited.

“Are we ready to begin proceedings?” A one-legged seagull cawed. I tried not to stare, but he caught me looking, anyway, and shrieked, “Our human guests must show proper respect for the court!”

My poor ears.“Ouch, ouch, okay. Sorry,” I muttered as they continued to ring.

Bravo landed on Charles’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

And Alpha took up a perch on mine.“You better pray he doesn’t mess this one up.”

Gulp.

“So where’s your flock’s lawyer?” I asked the one-legged gull.

“I am the judge here!” he cried even louder than the first time.

“I will be presenting the case on behalf of Flock 84,” a young female bird announced, extending one wing in greeting.

“All rise,” Judgey McJudgerson said while glaring at us.

I bit my lip to stop myself from pointing out that we were all already standing. Given how loud his caws could be, I definitely didn’t want to do anything else that could upset the one-legged banshee.

He glanced at Charles and me then to the bird lawyer and began,“We are gathered here today in holy legality to discuss the dispute between flocks 82 and 84 over the territory previously held by Flock 83. Are there any objections? If so, speak them now or forever hold your peace.”

Um, why had the seagulls selected human law to decide this case when they clearly knew so little about it? I couldn’t tell if I was in a courtroom or at a wedding altar. As ridiculous as this all felt, I also knew that the best way to get through to any animal was to act natural and play by their rules.

So I stepped forward, swallowed hard, and said,“I object.”

All eyes zoomed to me, including Charles’s.

“Sweetie,” he whispered at me. “What are you objecting to? The trial hasn’t even begun yet?”

I didn’t know, but I also didn’t want to lose the opportunity to object if that wasn’t going to be allowed later on.

“Please state your objection for the congregation,” said the bird judge or minister—honestly I didn’t even know anymore.

I cleared my throat and spoke up loud and clear.“I object because this is a case about seagull rights and should, uh, thusly, not be decided by human laws.”

He cocked his head to the side.“Interesting. Do go on.”

“Hey, kid!” Alpha squawked in my ear. “What are you doing to me here? Did you forget our deal?”

But I refused to back down. Something about this case had left Charles unsettled. If our situations were reversed, he never would have forced me to go forward with this. I wanted to meet my bio grandma, yes, but knowing she was out there and close by could be enough of an advantage to find her on my own.

“Since the disputed territory belongs to Flock 83, I propose we let them decide whether 82 or 84 will acquire it in their absence.”

“But Flock 83 disappeared. Nobody knows where they went,” Bravo said from his place on Charles’s shoulder.

I raised both eyebrows.“And don’t you find that a bit curious?”

“Angie, what are you doing?” Charles whisper-yelled as he grabbed onto my upper arm. “This case is open and shut. Let me tell them about the precedents, and we can all go home happy.”

I shook my head hard. I hadn’t known where I was going with this when I first claimed my objection, but now I knew exactly what needed to be done. “No,” I said firmly. “You wouldn’t be happy. Not without knowing.”

“Listen to your mate,” Alpha hissed at me. “Do what we hired you to do, or you’ll be sorry.”

“No, you’re the one who will be sorry!” Pringle shouted, charging onto the scene with a fuzzy brown chick on his back—a baby seagull, I realized.

Exactly three thoughts ran through my head at that moment:

Pringle was alive!

He had discovered something important!

And it would be a lot longer until I got to meet my long-lost grandmother…

Chapter Twenty

“What is the meaning of this?” the judge bird demanded of the raccoon. Spotting the little one, however, he immediately changed his tone. “Oh, hello there, chicky. This is no place for youngsters, I’m afraid.”

“I may be young of age, but I am old in experience.” The baby gull’s voice came out high and squeaky and so, so cute. “I have seen things, escaped things, that no bird should ever witness.”

“Throw her out of here. We have a very important trial to run, and we need to do so without any more delays!” Alpha declared, swooping down from my shoulder and landing before the judge.

Pringle stood on his hind legs and clutched the fluffy chick to his chest defensively.“Quit your yapping and listen to my friend Abigull here. It’s because of her I’m going to get my treasure.”

I held my breath and waited. Whatever Abigull revealed next, I knew it would decide what happened in this field today.

Alpha spread his wings wide and charged at the raccoon.“We don’t have to listen to you, you filthy—”

Pringle bared his teeth and hissed, which had Alpha immediately changing course and flying to the nearest tree for cover.

“Go on, Abigull. This is a safe place,” the judge nudged.

She hopped out of Pringle’s hands and onto the ground, then began her harrowing tale. “I was hatched in Flock 83. I loved it there with my family and had just started practicing leaving the nest. One day I came home after exploring and found that everyone had gone away. Every single bird. I cried out for my momma but couldn’t find her anywhere. Then I saw that guy.” She stopped and motioned toward Alpha with her beak. “I saw him pecking around, so decided to follow him for a closer look. That’s when I found him talking to a cat. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the next thing I knew the cat had a dead seagull in its mouth and was shouting ‘pleasure doing business with you!’ I still wasn’t a very good flyer, so I ran and hid. And I’ve been hiding ever since. Well, until Pringle found me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” I murmured, my heart breaking for her.

The one-legged bird scuttled over to Abigull and put a wing over her small body.“A horrible, horrible thing this surprise witness has revealed to us today.”

She sniffed and leaned into his side.“I’ve been so afraid.”

“You did the right thing by telling us,” the judge assured her. “It would seem that Alpha of Flock 82 slaughtered 83 with a feline accomplice in order to gain their land. But we won’t let that happen.”

“Guys!” I shouted when I saw a small patch of white launch away from a tree and into the sky above. “He’s getting away!”

“Oh, no, he isn’t!” Bravo cried and catapulted after him. “C’mon 82. 84, too. We can’t let this stand.”

Everyone but the judge, Abigull, Pringle, Charles, and I departed to bring the war criminal to justice. I doubted his end would be a pleasant one.

“You were right,” I told Charles, shaking my head. It had all happened so, so fast. “This whole time. You assumed foul play, and you were absolutely, undeniably right.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss onto my forehead. I thought he was going to comment on my clever pun, but instead he said,“You were going to risk not meeting your grandmother for me.”

I laughed.“Yeah, well, romance is a verb, you know?”

His eyes squinted in confusion.“No, I really don’t know. I believe you, though.”

“Thank you for your help, Pringle.” I reached down to offer the raccoon a high five. “You really saved the day.”

He sniffed and held his snout high.“Maybe. It’s a shame what happened to all those birds, though.”

“Still, you’ve more than earned your treasure.” Then I realized… “I’m not so sure Flock 82 is going to be eager to give us the payment they promised, but I’ll make sure you’re paid for your time. What do you want? A motorcycle? A robot?”

Oh, man. Why was I giving him ideas?

Pringle’s eyes became huge with all the exciting prospects. “Well, actually—”

CA-CAW! Bravo announced his return with a shrill cry as he swooped back to the earth.“The others have this well in hand.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply nodded.

“Your name is Abigull, right?” he said to the chick who still stood huddled beneath Judge’s wing.

She ambled out to face him with a salute.“Sir, yes, sir!”

Bravo bent down and gazed directly into her eyes, then straightened and said,“I know it won’t replace the flock you lost, but I invite you to join 82 if you would like. I’ll raise you as my own and make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“Wow. But aren’t you the new Alpha?” Abigull whispered reverently.

“Alpha? No, I’m not going to take that name. Call me Bravo. That’s who I am and who I will always be. I may be in charge now, but it doesn’t mean I need to act like a jerk about it.”

“Okay, Bravo,” the chick said, then pressed her fuzzy gray body into his.

I teared up watching them.

Even Pringle seemed to have something caught in his eye.

Charles wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“You tried to help me see that Alpha’s orders were too much. But I denied your help and stuck blindly to his commands. I could have stopped all this. I could have saved—”

“No,” I insisted. “None of this is your fault. As soon as you knew what was going on, you fixed it. You’ll be a great leader to your flock, Bravo. I’m sure of it.”

“I haven’t forgotten our promise to you,” the bird said, hopping along the grass. “Follow me back to the dumpster, and I will present your material payment. The flock will have a lot to figure out with the loss of 83’s land, but it’s only fair we don’t benefit from our corrupt leader’s actions. Once my birds are safe, I will take you to meet your grandmother. I wish I could take you sooner as a thank-you for all you’ve done, but none of us expected what happened. It will be a huge transition for our flock, plus I need some good quality time with my new daughter.”

Abigull gave a happy chirrup.

I bowed my head.“That’s all I can ask for. Thank you so much. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Judge chose to remain in the field and wait for the return of the others.

The rest of us made the short trek to the dumpster in the nearby strip mall parking lot.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see my secret prize!” Pringle rubbed his hands together and jumped up and down as Bravo dove into the smelly trash receptacle and began to rummage about.

When he emerged a few moments later, I expected to see a dirty fast-food wrapper or maybe a plastic doohickey on display. But instead Bravo held a sparkling diamond solitaire ring clamped firmly in his beak.“Now which one of you gets this?” he asked, looking from me to Charles to Pringle.

“Mine!” the raccoon screamed gleefully, scurried up the side of the dumpster, and snatched the beautiful piece of jewelry.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Charles said with a laugh as he looped an arm around my waist.

I smiled but didn’t say anything.

Yes, it certainly was unexpected. Not just the treasure being something of actual value, but this entire day, the truth about the horrible fate that had befallen Flock 83 and presumably Alpha as his punishment.

But the most surprising part of all had been the way I felt inside when that glittering engagement ring came into view. My breath hitched, my heart skipped a beat, and I definitely got love butterflies.

It wasn’t from fear, though, rather an unwavering certainty.

If Charles had been the one holding that ring, I would have definitely said yes.

12.5. BLACK CAT BENEFIT

Chapter One

Hi, my name’s Angie Russo, and I can talk to animals. Yes, they understand me, and I understand them right back. But before you write me off as some crazy person, it’s important you understand that I never asked for this. In fact, it took me quite by shock… Um, literally.

That’s right. My peculiar power first appeared when I got electrocuted by a crummy old coffee maker. It happened at the firm where I used to work as a paralegal, right in the middle of a private will reading. And when I awoke from that zap that knocked my unconscious, I found a striped cat sitting onmy chest and making some pretty mean jokes at my expense.

Of course he had no idea I could actually understand him. Once he figured that out, the crabby tabby recruited me to help solve the murder of his late owner. I soon took to calling him Octo-Cat, short for his full moniker of Octavius Maxwell etc. etc. Fulton etc. Seriously, the cat had almost eight names attached to him, and he only adds to them as the months go by.

Fast forward more than a year… And we solved that first murder, all right, then many more crimes after that. In fact, the two of us now have our own private investigation firm, which my mom and Nan have dubbed Pet Whisperer P.I. They even had a sign made, much to my chagrin.

I don’t want anyone to know my secret, so we pretend it’s just a marketing gimmick. Besides, it’s not like Octo-Cat can tell anyone on my behalf. We haven’t had very many paying clients since opening, but we still manage to stumble into fresh cases on a near monthly basis—from murder to embezzlement and everything in between, we find the bad guys of Blueberry Bay and make sure they don’t get away with their crimes.

And as nice as it would be to get paid a bit more regularly for the services we provide, my cat’s trust fund covers all our expenses and then some, including the schmancy New England manor house we call home. The property belonged to Octo-Cat’s previous owner—yeah, the murdered one—and he wasn’t willing to give that glam life up to live in my low-budget rental, so he tricked me into being the one to make a change.

And just like he has a way of adding to his lengthy name, he only gets more spoiled as time goes by, too. He has his own iPad, only drinks Evian, and pretty much does whatever he wants whenever he wants. Still, I love the guy and wouldn’t trade him for the world.

We also live with Nan, my eccentric grandmother who happens to be a former Broadway actress, one who refuses to put her glory days behind her. Last summer, she adopted a sweet little tricolor Chihuahua from the local animal shelter and named the tiny dear Paisley. We had a rough go at first, but now Octo-Cat and Paisley are good friends—probably because it’s quite easy for him to boss around a dog that’s less than half his size.

Just further proof of his diva catittude.

Back when Paisley first landed in our lives, she helped us uncover a big embezzlement scheme at the shelter from which she was rescued. The animals are in great hands with the new director, but the shelter has had trouble recovering from that scandal. Fewer people are willing to donate or to adopt even though the leadership has changed hands.

Enter my grandmother.

Her tender heart breaks for each and every one of those animals without a home, and if it weren’t for me putting my foot down, we’d no doubt end up adopting every last one ourselves. Of course, I’ve agreed to help her support the shelter however we can, which includes a monthly donation in Paisley’s name.

But that’s not always enough, and I get it.

Now that Nan is on Facebook, she spends a lot of time in pet lover groups and recently saw a video that said black pets are the least likely to get adopted. And you know what that means…

Being that the furry love of her life, Paisley, is mostly black in color, this little factoid especially touched her heart and spurred her to action.

That’s why tonight we’ll be hosting a gigantic charity event to help the shelter, and it’s going to be right here in our New England manor house. It started out as an adoption event for all the black cats and dogs in residence, but the more we plan, the more gets added to it. So tonight’s eventis now also a fundraiser, both a formal auction and a silent auction, dinner party, ball, and even a 5k black-tie race for the cause.

Nan lives by the philosophy that if it’s worth doing, then it’s worth overdoing. She also loves to say, “Go big. That’s it. There’s no option to go home.”

So here we are, throwing a big overdone event to help the shelter out of a tight spot. It’s been a ton of work, but if even one animal finds itself a new home tonight, then all that hard work will have been worth it.

I’d cross my fingers for luck, but I need them to put the finishing touches on tonight’s event. So wish me luck, and I’ll get back to work!

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“What are you wearing?” Nan shrieked when I appeared at the top of the grand stairway having spent the last hour prepping and preening to make sure I fit the black cat/black tie theme for the evening perfectly.

I glanced down at my knee-length, off-the-shoulder black satin dress with white polkadots and did a little spin. I’d grabbed this particular gem at my favorite thrift shop and loved how fabulously 80s it was.

Nan, however, did not. She marched right up the stairs, grabbed me by the wrist, and dragged me into her room.“This is not a costume party, dear. It’s a formal event!”

Great. Next she was going to tell me she didn’t like the teased side pony I’d spent a solid twenty minutes perfecting.

Sure enough, she looked me over from head to toe and frowned again.“And what’s with your hair? Why do you like the 80s so much, anyway? You weren’t even born until the very last month of that wretched decade. Here. Wear this instead.”

She thrust a hanger at me, but I refused to take it.

“Nan, I’m nowhere near as tiny as you. There is no way that’s going to fit.”

“It’s stretchy,” she said, pulling at the fabric in demonstration. “So it’ll be a little tight, but at least it will fit the theme.”

“Fine,” I said accepting the slinky dress and the elbow-length white satin gloves she also tossed my way.

I groaned and tromped out of there to change. It was easier to just do it her way, even though I definitely didn’t love the idea of wearing a skintight dress all evening. How would I dance or compete in the 5k race… or even breathe?

“You look like something I barfed up,” Octo-Cat informed me as he traipsed down the hall with his tail held high.

“Hush, you,” I spat. I’d already heard it from Nan and didn’t need to take it from him, too. “There is nothing wrong with my style choices.”

He snickered.“Your style choices, that’s why you look so unfortunate. Suuuuure.”

I reached the top of the stairs to my third-floor tower bedroom and closed the door right in my smug tabby’s face. I’d had enough of his criticism already. It wasn’t just that he didn’t like my outfit. He didn’t like our idea for the event at all, especially the fact that the shelter animals would be brought on location to meet prospective new families.

“This is a one-cat household,” he’d shouted when he found this last bit out. “It’s bad enough you brought in the yap rat. Don’t make me kick you out for good.”

At being called ayap rat, Nan’s sweet Chihuahua Paisley whimpered and went to lick her wounds under the couch—a space she could fit beneath but Octo-Cat couldn’t.

I hated when he took his frustrations out on her, but she would be okay. Paisley was, after all, an eternal optimist and the kindest creature alive. She’d forgive him before he ever forgave me.

Still, it was just one night. One night that could change a lot of lives for the better.

My spoiled cat would get over it.

Eventually…

Chapter Two

And then the shelter volunteers arrived with a truck full of mewling cats kept in collapsible metal crates. I counted eleven in all—two human volunteers and nine black cats up for adoption at tonight’s gala.

“Take them upstairs, second bedroom to the right,” I told the college-aged volunteers—a pretty blonde girl and tough-looking guy with sand-colored hair—with a smile.

“But the second bedroom on the right is mine,” Octo-Cat pointed out with a perturbed growl. I hadn’t even seen him sitting to the side of the staircase and staring daggers at first the volunteers and then me. “Surely you meant for them to go somewhere else.”

“Nope.” I popped my lips on theP, hoping it would make me sound casual and unbothered. When really, the truth was I knew I’d be paying for this one for months to come, and I was also just a bit terrified to find out how Octo-Cat would repay me for this particular upset. Never matter. I could suck it up to save some animals—and so could he.

“B-b-but…” he stuttered as his tail thumped on the hardwood floor.

“Cat got your tongue?” I quipped before hurrying on my way to work on the next item I needed to check off my lengthy list.

Octo-Cat flew into a rage, shouting a string of kitty curse words as he darted up the stairs. I hoped he wasn’t on his way to make trouble for the shelter volunteers, but I didn’t have time to supervise just then. There was still too much left to do, and the event started in less than an hour.Yikes!

“Where do you want this?” asked Brock “Cal” Calhoun, the local handyman and my former crush. His muscles strained as he gripped onto the largest piece of our formal dining room table—something I never could have dreamed of moving on my own.

I paused as I surveyed the quickly emptying room.“Can you move all the furniture we don’t need for the gala into the garage, please?”

“You got it, boss.” He winked at me, and heat flooded my cheeks. Yes, I was hopelessly in love with Charles, but that didn’t change the fact that Cal was nice to look at—and possibly flirting with me.

I watched him exit, then spun around and ran straight into a thick wall of chest clad in an elegant tux.

“Whoa there,” Charles said as he wrapped his arms around me and pressed a kiss to my hairline. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Had a client meeting run over. How’s everything going so far? How can I help?”

I fell into his hug, trying to allow myself a quick moment of relaxation. My heart still thrummed wildly, though. It seemed taking care of all these last-minute details had sent my body into fight or flight mode.

I’d been so busy running around that I hadn’t even realized Charles had turned up late. Did that mean I had even less time than I thought?Ugh.

For his part, Charles had agreed to serve as our chief auctioneer. Nobody could state a case like he did in the Blueberry Bay court rooms, so I was counting on him to also be fantastic at getting great prices for not-so-great items. Charity, and all that. Nan had also asked a few friends to help drive up the prices on the silent auctions, which I hoped wouldn’t backfire on us in the end.

“Angie, is everything all right?” he asked, studying me closely. He’d always been able to read me just like a book. There was no hiding anything from Charles.

“Everything’s fine.” I gave him a quick kiss hello and pulled away. “Just lots to do.”

“Then put me to work. Does Cal need help moving the furniture?” He cracked his knuckles in an adorable display of manliness.

“Not while you’re wearing that,” I said with a chuckle. “You look very handsome, by the way.”

“And you look gorgeous, but not much like the Angie I know.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back to him. “What’s with these gloves? Fancy, but definitely not you.”

“Nan,” I muttered under my breath, and he broke out laughing.

“That’ll do it.” He took my hand and kissed each of the gloved fingertips. “When this is all over, I’ll take you out for a nice dinner to celebrate, and you can wear the outfit you were planning to wear tonight. Deal?”

I nodded and flashed him a grateful smile.“Thank you. I may need a week or two to recover, but that would be lovely.”

“Okay. Enough yammering. How can I help?” He released me from his arms and stepped back. That made it easier to think. Otherwise, I could lose myself in those strong arms of his.

“Can you check that everything’s ready for the 5k? I think the start and finish line banner still needs to be hung up. Nan went overboard of course, and it wound up at least three times bigger than it ever needed to be. You may need to find someone to help secure one end while you work on the other.”

Charles gave me his cheesiest grin along with an enthusiastic thumbs up.“I’m on it!”

Okay, so he was taking care of that. The volunteers upstairs had the adoptable pets under control. That left… The DJ. Debbie the DJ. I’d found her when she replied to an online job listing I’d posted asking for a volunteer to aid in a charity event. Since she was the only one who ever bothered to reply, she was the one who got the job, sight unseen and DJing unheard. I know this wasn’t a paid gig, but shouldn’t she have been here by now?

I tracked back to the kitchen and found my phone waiting on the counter. I had three missed texts, all from Debbie.

Hey. Feeling a bit under the weather. Not sure I can make it tonight, the first read. That had been sent just over half an hour ago. Talk about short notice! How was I supposed to find a replacement at this late hour?

The next message was worse still:Feeling a lot under the weather now. Rain check?

Rain check? Seriously? This event was happening tonight, with or without our DJ.

Sorry. Will see if I can find a replacement.

That was sent ten minutes ago. I hated this. Confrontation was not my forte, but neither was failure. Yes, this event was huge and convoluted and crazy, but we’d already put so much work into making this night a success. I refused to let a case of the sniffles ruin that.

I took a deep breath and braced myself for the uncomfortable call ahead. Before I could hit the button to place that call though, I received a new text from an unknown number.

Hey, this is Max. My friend Debbie said you need a DJ for tonight. How much does the gig pay?

I clenched my jaw. Debbie had agreed to do it on the house. Apparently she hadn’t passed that bit of info on to Max. Still, I’d rather pay for the help than take over the job myself. I already had a million and one things to oversee, and Nan hated my taste in music as it was.

And so I typed back:$100?

Sold. Text me the location and I’ll be OMW. Cash only btw.

Yeah. I didn’t have one hundred dollars on me tonight. In fact, I never did. Credit cards existed for a reason, but fine. Maybe we could pay Max from the donations jar, and I could write a check for the shelter to make up for it.

Yes, that would have to do. I definitely didn’t have time to rush to the bank so close to go time.

I sent Max my address and then shoved the phone in my bra for safekeeping. I couldn’t risk missing another cancellation or delay just because the dress Nan forced me to wear had no pockets.No pockets!What kind of dress has no pockets?

Octo-Cat sauntered into the kitchen with a smug look stretched between his whiskers.“I left you a present on your bedspread,” he announced with a chuckle.

Please be a hairball and not a dead animal, I mentally pleaded, choosing not to directly acknowledge my jerk of a cat. Yes, I knew he was upset about the shelter cats being in his room, but I also didn’t have time for this.

I’d deal with this “present” of his later.

People would start arriving any minute, and I needed to make sure everyone had the time of their life. Happy partiers meant big donations, and the animal shelter could sorely use every single dollar they could get.

My job tonight was to get those dollars.

Game on.

Chapter Three

Five minutes before the event was scheduled to begin, a hand grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back.

I spun to see my grandmother wearing a floor-length gown in hot pink with a large billowing skirt and an incredibly low neckline. She’d completed the look with a pair of ruby stud earrings and a tiara, which was nestled beautifully before a mountain of gray curls that had been piled on top of her head, adding at least three inches to her height.

“You look amazing,” I whispered breathlessly. Leave it to my seventy-something grandmother to look sexier than not-quite-thirty-yet me.

“And you look much better now, too,” she said with an approving gaze.

“Where have you been? It’s almost go time.”

“Hey, it takes time to look this good.” And then perhaps realizing how vain this sounded, she added, “This will be the first time Grant sees me all gussied up. I had to go big. There’s—”

“No going home,” we both finished together, then giggled.

“I’ll be the floater tonight. Can you be the greeter?” Nan motioned toward the door.

“And I suppose you want me to take their coats, too?”

“That would be perfect,” she said with a grin. “See, you’re a natural!”

And with that, she swept into the main room to check over details I’d already personally attended to, leaving me to wait for our first guests so I could roll out the one-woman welcoming committee as instructed.

The order of events was to be as follows:

Formal Auction

Formal Dinner

5K Fundraiser

Dance Party

Both pet adoptions and the silent auction would be happening all night long. The silent auction had been stationed in the upstairs hallway, and the pets were waiting nearby in Octo-Cat’s bedroom with their two designated volunteers. Yes, there were two different styles of auction for the event—and, yes, it was most definitely confusing.

Although we had a rather stately home, every square foot of space would be filled that night.

Sure enough, guests flooded into our home the moment those doors opened. I lost track of time as I exchanged hellos, took coats, and directed everyone to the formal auction in the next room.

Hello. Coat? Auction!

Again and again it went.

Nan’s boyfriend, Mr. Grant Gable, came to help me at some point when he saw how overwhelmed I had become keeping up. More than likely Nan had sent him over.

“What a party!” he said with that warm grin of his. His cufflinks sparkled with what appeared to be real diamonds. I’d expect nothing less from the proud jeweler.

“If everyone offers some kind of donation, the shelter will be in great shape after tonight,” I agreed. “I thought this Frankensteined event would be too much, but apparently folks in Glendale like to live a little dangerously.”

He chuckled.“That’s your nan for you. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Someone bumped into me from behind, knocking me right into Mr. Gable.Oof.

“Sorry. Setup’s pretty heavy. By the way, I’ll need my payment up front.” The guy set his load on the floor, almost dropping it on my foot in the process, and pushed a greasy lock of overgrown hair from his face.

“You must be Max,” I said, putting on my best, most tolerant smile as I appraised his holey jeans and wrinkled T-shirt.

“Yeah.” He sniffed, but didn’t offer his hand in greeting. Probably for the best, considering how much dirt appeared to be caked under those nails of his.

“Um, did no one tell you about the black-tie theme?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Max shrugged and sniffed again.“They told me. That’s why I’m wearing a black shirt. See.”

“Ah ha. Yes, I see.”

“C’mon, young man,” Mr. Gable intervened, tossing me a wink as he put his hand on Max’s back and pointed him in the direction of the living room. “I’ll take you where you need to go.”

“Thank you,” I mouthed when the charming old-timer glanced back over his shoulder and gave me a thumbs up.

“Hello. Can I come in?” a woman asked from the doorway. She wore a sparkly red dress with a slit cut all the way up the side a la Jessica Rabbit. Even had the heavy purple eye shadow to match. Unlike most of the others in attendance, I’d never seen her a day in my life. I definitely would have remembered if I had.

“Yes, yes. Welcome to the Black Cat Benefit,” I said, then did jazz hands for some inexplicable reason.

Jessica Rabbit offered me her hand fingers down, like I was supposed to kiss it. I shook it awkwardly instead.

Remembering myself and my responsibility here, I smiled and pointed.“We’re starting with the auction. Just to your left in the main room. Have a nice time.”

Eventually the guests came fewer and farther between, making my post largely unnecessary. Satisfied with a job well done, I decided to check in with the auction and watch Charles in action.

I slipped in with my back pressed against the wall, and my eyes locked on him where he stood on a small podium that Cal had erected just before the party began.

He held up a dark brown fur coat and raised an eyebrow at the crowd.“Our next item is this authentic 100% mink coat. Kind of an odd choice for an animal charity event, but a luxury item nonetheless. Can I start the bidding at $200?”

The Jessica Rabbit clone clapped her hands together and told all who would hear that she had been the one to make such a generous donation to the cause.

Meanwhile, no one was bidding.

“Do I hear $200 for this beautiful coat?” Charles pressed.

People whispered to their neighbors, cleared their throats, shifted on their feet, did anything but bid.

Nan stalked over to my side and put a hand on my shoulder to get my intention.“Probably shouldn’t have approved that item, but the donor was insistent.”

I pushed my lips in a firm line and waited.

Poor Charles looked so uncomfortable up there.“How about $150? I’m sure this would retail for much higher. If not a fine gift for yourself, how about purchasing it as an investment piece. Eh?”

The sooner this moment was over, the better it would be for all of us. Maybe I should have bid on it and then sold it over eBay, giving any profits to the shelter. I was just about to speak up when someone else beat me to the punch.

“I’ll go $100,” a nasally voice said from the back corner of the room where the DJ booth was still being assembled.Max.

“Going once,” Charles sputtered. “Twice? Sold to that guy!”

People clapped politely.

Max smiled to himself and continued to work on his setup.

Charles moved on to the next item, a pastel landscape painting from one of the ladies at the local retirement home. Needless to say, far more people wanted to bid on this item than its predecessor. I remained close by as the auction continued to its end.

“Anything I can do to help get ready for the dinner?” I asked Nan, who’d stood at my side for the last half hour or so.

“Oh, yes. If you could start getting people seated on the other side. Cal and his team will add the tables in over here, and I’ll direct the wait staff in the kitchen.”

So I would be the hostess again.

I nodded, committing to the plan like a good granddaughter, then asked,“Have you seen Octo-Cat since we got started?”

“No, not really. I’d imagine he’s gone off to sulk in his room,” she said distractedly, then departed through the crowd. “See you at dinner,” she called back to me.

I would bet anything Octo-Cat was staying far away from his bedroom, given that the shelter cats had been set up there. Maybe he was hiding out in my room.

It wouldn’t hurt to check.

I returned to the foyer and made my way up our grand staircase in search of my missing feline. True, I didn’t have time to worry about his feelings, but I also wanted to make sure he was safe and not too stressed by all the visitors.

On my way through the second story hallway, the door to Octo-Cat’s bedroom swung open suddenly, causing me to stop short and suck in a surprised breath.

Max had his back to me, and he was mumbling something I couldn’t quite make out. Then he turned, slammed the door, and sniffed at me.

“Hey, it’s you. Can I have my money now?” he asked, hand out.

Weird. Generally I liked most people, but Max instantly turned me off. And the addition of the mink coat he won at auction made him look like even more of a jerk than before.

Why? I wondered.And what was he doing up here? And what possible use did he have for that fur coat?

Chapter Four

Just as I’d suspected, Octo-Cat had curled up on my bed upstairs. He’d even pushed the door closed behind him, which is where I found Paisley waiting and whining.

“Brother, brother, let me in!”

“Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin,” my cat snarked back at her. Lovely.

“That’s it,” I said, scooping up Paisley and forcing my way into the bedroom. My bedroom.

“Why are you picking on Paisley?” I demanded, giving Octo-Cat the side eye as I scratched the quivering Chihuahua between her giant triangle ears.

“I just needed some time to myself. Okay?” he said with a yawn. “It’s no big deal.”

“I was worried someone might step on me,” Paisley announced with a shiver. “I didn’t want anyone to do that.”

“I thought you were planning to stay outside during the party so you could still take part in the race,” I reminded her gently. If I had known she’d come back inside, I would have gotten her set up safely straight away.

Paisley whimpered.“Yeah, but I got lonely all by myself out there.”

“You poor thing. Why don’t you stay here with Octo-Cat, and I’ll come get you for the race? Okay?” The race, after all, was the whole reason she’d initially opted to remain outside. Ever since Nan had added the 5k to the schedule of events, Paisley had insisted that she would compete and win.

“Oh, yes please! Thank you, Mommy!” she squealed now as I set her down on the bed beside Octo-Cat.

“What about what I want?” he asked with wide eyes and ears flat against his head.

“Stop. You love Paisley.”

“Sometimes, but you see, I’m already Paisley-ed out today, Angela.” Whenever he used my full name, I knew I was in trouble.

Paisley let out a mournful howl.

“Please,” I hissed, more angry than supplicatory. “She needs you.”

“What about whatI need?” he countered, then yawned again.

Okay, that was enough. This may all be boring to him, but it was hurting Paisley’s feelings and also keeping me from helping with the event.

“Stop,’” I shouted and stamped my foot with a special kind of finality. “Stop this right now. I’m sorry that our helping other animals has inconvenienced you for a few hours, but it’s literallyjust a few hours.”

Octo-Cat’s mouth fell open in shock. “How dare you talk to me like—”

“Look,” I interrupted, switching from the vinegar approach to honey mid-stream. “What if I drive out to Misty Harbor tomorrow and get you one of those lobster rolls you like so much? Deal?”

The tabby sat up and wrapped his tail around himself. I had his attention now.

“One is not enough. You said it yourself, I have to endure a few hours of torture. I should be compensated accordingly.”

“So what? You want three? You can’t even finish one on your own,” I reminded him. I also didn’t have time to negotiate here. I’d already been gone too long as it was.

Octo-Cat tilted his head to one side and then the other, toying with me, no doubt.“I want one lobster roll delivered fresh for each hour that I have to endure this thing. One day at a time for as many days as it takes.”

“But that’s like a thirty-minute drive each way!” I protested.

He sighed and raised a paw, which he wagged at me.“I didn’t want to have to do this, but it seems you leave me no choice.” His claws came out with a schlink, and he flexed them in front of me. “Oh, Paisley!” he called.

“Yes, Octavius?” she yapped, coming over with a full-on butt wiggle. Once again, just happy to be included.

“You wouldn’t,” I said under my breath.

“Watch me.” Octo-Cat flexed his claws again and slowly moved the weaponized paw toward the unwitting doggie.

“Fine! One lobster roll per day,” I exploded, hating that he’d gotten the best of me by using such underhanded tactics.

“As many days as it takes,” he added, claws flexing once more.

“Yes. Fine. I agree. Now play nice up here.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Octo-Cat said, re-sheathing his claws and then licking his paw and beginning to groom himself as if that had been his true plan all along.

“Bye, Mommy,” Paisley called after me as I made my escape.

Back on the main floor, the auction had just come to an end, and the crowd was milling about, awaiting direction.

My direction.Crud.

Mr. Gable met me midway on the grand staircase.“Everyone, listen up!” he shouted over the din. Then to me, “You’re on, Angie.”

“Hi, everyone,” I said as loudly as I could without actually shouting. “Thank you so much for being here tonight. The next portion of our evening is dinner. Seating is already set up on the right-hand side of the house.” I motioned and smiled like a flight attendant. “The left side—” I motioned the other way “—will be ready shortly. Please find a seat at your earliest convenience, and let me know if you need help or have any questions.”

I marched down the steps and planted myself by the door so I would be easy to find. Searching for Nan, I glanced toward the left side of the house where Cal and his team of volunteers were moving in tables and chairs at lightning speed.

We’d opted for cheap card tables disguised with fine linen cloths. Nan had also gussied up the rented folding chairs by creating full length covers that fit over them perfectly. A tulle bow had been tied around the crook of each chair, providing extra elegance despite the inexpensive materials.

I briefly spotted Nan, chatting to a tall man in an impeccable tux at the edge of the kitchen. She wore an enormous smile and nodded her head vigorously the entire time. I wondered if she’d just found an especially generous donor to add to this night’s success. Of course, I couldn’t tell who the man was from this angle. His back was turned to me and he wasn’t someone I knew well enough to recognize in that way.

“Please, please, take a seat. Dinner will be served shortly,” Mr. Gable called over the crowd, drawing my attention away from Nan and her mystery guest. “I’ll be coming around to collect your vouchers. You should have received them when signing up for tonight’s event via the shelter. A complimentary dinner, of course, was included as a thank-you for your donations. You’ll also find fishbowl centerpieces. They’re empty because they’re for any additional donation you may like to offer to aid the animals. For those looking to add the perfect feline companion to your life, adoptions are being held upstairs for the entire night. We have nine wonderful black cats who would love to join your family. To meet them, just head straight upstairs and look for the door with the sign.”

He gave me an encouraging thumbs up and folded his hands before him as he waited for everyone to take their seats.

Nan’s voice came over the microphone Charles had been using to lead the auction. “In just a few moments, seating on the left side of the house will be opened. If you were unable to find a spot on the right side, head on over and my granddaughter Angie will find a place for you.” As she made thisannouncement, she walked over to join me and Mr. Gable in the foyer.

“We’ve got things over here,” Nan said, hanging onto the mic with one hand and lacing the fingers of her other with Mr. Gable’s. “Go direct the remaining guests on the left.”

I nodded and moved with the crowd over to the emptied-out side of the house.

Oh, if only we’d waited until warmer months to host this giant gala. Things would have been much easier had we been able to use our outdoor space. Nobody wanted to be outside on a late April night, however. The 5K was our only exception.

The left side of the house was our biggest interior area. Usually it held our living room and dining area, both spacious under normal circumstances. But tonight, the tables had been packed as close together as possible. Nan hadn’t wanted to turn away a single donor if having them all meant helping the animals—and I had to applaud her for that.

Despite the chaos, I liked how many had shown up in support. What I didn’t like was that Ms. Jessica Rabbit had installed herself right next to Charles at the table in the farthest back corner and was stroking his arm as she spoke.

To his credit, he kept moving his arm out of her reach, but she kept moving in closer and…

Oh, no. You’ve messed with the wrong girl’s boyfriend this time, Missy!

Chapter Five

I marched right over to Charles and his new friend. The tight sheath of a dress Nan had lent me made my hips waddle back and forth, but I didn’t care.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, trying to play it cool; unfortunately, my voice cracked, giving away my true mood in an instant.

Charles straightened in his seat.“Oh, um, Bonnie here was just telling me all about how she’s new to town and in the market for a lawyer.”

“I’ve heard you’re the best,” she said, not even acknowledging my arrival. “And I only work with the best. Only play with the best, too.”

I saw red—and not just the extremely revealing dress of the woman before me. “Charles,” I said between gritted teeth. “Could you help me get things prepped outside for the 5k please?Now.”

Charles jumped to his feet and had the good grace to appear apologetic. He even mouthed the word“sorry” to me.

Bonnie, however, tsked and rolled her eyes before finally allowing them to land on me.“Where I come from, they have a word for women who steal the pants from their man.”

I turned on her, shoulders tense, eyes wide.“Excuse me?”

She licked her lips and smiled smugly at Charles before returning her heated gaze to me.“You heard me. It’s a shame you won’t let your man be a man. Mark my words, you’ll lose him that way.”

“And who are you to—”

Charles put his hand on the small of my back and gave me a shove away from the table.“Let’s go check on that 5k, sweetie.”

I held my tongue, but the moment we stepped outside, I let it all out.“What were you thinking? Letting her fawn over you like that? It’s disgusting!”

I expected him to apologize. Maybe even explain a little, but he didn’t respond at all. He didn’t even look at me while I waited for his answer. Instead he stared straight ahead with unblinking eyes. His lips moved slightly, but no sound came out.

“Well, what’s your excuse?” I pushed. I trusted Charles, but this wasn’t like him. He’d also been very public about letting another woman flirt with him. “Are you really that hard up for clients that you need to let her treat you that way?”

He still didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his arm with a shaking finger and pointed into the yard.

I turned, expecting something awful, seeing how shaken up he appeared.

What I found was even worse.

The banner that Charles had only recently hung over the race’s starting line had been ripped down from the stakes holding it in place. One corner flapped in the soft breeze as if waving hello. The other side lay trapped beneath an unmoving body, the middle part wrapped tightly around his neck.

Dead.

Murdered.

Max.

He was hardly recognizable with his purple oxygen-starved face and hair hanging limply away from his face. His shirt and jeans were just as wrinkled as ever, and his bare arms appeared nearly as white as the banner that had been used to strangle the life out of him.

No. This couldn’t be happening—and right here in my own front yard.

I may not have liked the guy, but that didn’t mean I wanted him dead. He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, the poor guy. Why would someone do this? How could they have had the time to plan and to make sure that no one was around to witness the violent act? There were so many people inside. It only took one looking through the window…

But that hadn’t happened. From what I could tell, Charles and I were the first to discover him out here.

“Nan’s not going to like this,” I muttered and gave a nervous laugh. Since I was wearing the white elbow-high gloves Nan had forced upon me, I used this opportunity to march right up to the body and cover it with the free portion of the banner.

“You’re interfering with the scene!” Charles whisper-yelled from his place on the porch.

He had a point, and normally I wouldn’t compromise a crime scene, but nothing about this situation was normal. “We can’t have all those people panicking. Let’s take care of this quietly and send them home before word spreads.”

“I’m calling Officer Bouchard.” Charles whipped his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed.

“Sorry, buddy,” I told Max’s corpse, and I really was sorry, too. If only Debbie had never called in sick. If only we’d skipped having a DJ in the first place…

That was when buxom Bonnie swept out onto the porch and stopped mid-stride, letting out a shrill gasp. The door still hung open behind her, and at the sound of her surprise, others began to gather to see what all the fuss was.

“I hope you’re all enjoying your dinner,” I called, offering a deceptively happy and hugely uncomfortable wave. “Just putting together the finishing touches for our 5k.”

“Is that a dead body?” Bonnie asked with a husky drawl that seemed different from her more polished, feminine voice earlier.

“Nooooo,” I said, drawing the word out to give me some more time to think up an explanation.

Fortunately, Mr. Gable jumped to the rescue. He pushed out onto the porch and clapped his hands together.“Surprise! We’ve added a murder mystery to our dinner party tonight. Everyone make your guesses as to the identity of the killer and leave them with your name and email in the fish bowls set out along the tables. There will be a special prize for whoever guesses right. Now let’s get back inside!” He offered me a thumbs up—a new favorite thing of his, apparently—and directed the guests who’d begun to gather in the doorway back inside.

Only Bonnie lingered behind with me and Charles.

“He’s not just playing dead, is he?” she asked, then sucked air through her teeth. “You’re both way too panicked for this to be pretend.”

“Got a lot of experience with murder, do you?” I shot back. I just didn’t have the time to deal with her right now, especially since Charles and I had way bigger problems to solve at the moment.

Charles raised a finger to his lips to silence both of us, his full attention on the phone in his hand.“Yes, Officer Bouchard. There’s been a… well, an incident…. Uh-huh… Yup… Will do. Bye.”

The conversation ended almost as quickly as it had begun.

“What did he say?” I pressed, drawing close to Charles’s side.

“He’s coming. Wants us to keep the partygoers inside so as not to interfere with the crime scene.”

“But that means—”

“No 5k, I know.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Do you ever think that Blueberry Bay must have the highest murder rate per capita in the entire country? It feels like we always stumble upon another body just as we’ve put the last one to rest.”

I laughed uncomfortably.“Maybe so. Blueberry Bay is all I’ve ever known, though. It’s home.” Charles had moved here from California just over a year ago. I didn’t know what life looked like over there, but here in Glendale, bad things just happened sometimes—especially since Octo-Cat had entered my life.Hmmm.

Bonnie chuckled and put a hand on Charles’s shoulder like she owned him. “This place has got nothing on the big city. Believe me.”

“Please don’t tell anyone what really happened out here,” I implored her, letting the flirtation slide. We just needed to get through the night, Charles and I, then we never had to see her again.

She raised both hands in surrender.“Who’ve I got to tell? Charles here is the only person who’s even bothered to say hello.”

“You both go back inside,” Charles ordered. “I’ll stay out here and wait for the police.”

Much to my surprise, Bonnie offered me her hand.“Shall we?”

I took it, and together we slipped back into my bustling house that was filled to the brim with partygoers. Oh, I hoped the police would hurry up in finding what they needed.

Until they could, I’d need to do everything in my power to keep people inside and away from the body. Maybe I could also uncover some clues to help things along.

Save the party and catch the killer?

Yup, all in a day’s work for a P.I. like me.

Chapter Six

“Everyone listen up!” Bonnie shouted, cupping both hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “This girl right here has an announcement to make.”

Well, so much for being subtle.

I cleared my throat and stepped forward.“Yes, the 5k has been cancelled, due to an approaching storm. Sorry. I know a lot of you were looking forward to it, but better safe than sorry. Right, guys?”

“So what now?” a thin man in an ill-fitting suit called from his seat at one of the middle dining tables. “I gathered a lot of pledges for that race.”

“Um, I guess we’ll just go straight to the next part of the evening.”Shoot.I hadn’t quite thought this one through. “The formal ball. Yay!”

Bonnie clapped her hands over her head.“Yay!”

“But what about our pledges? Can we at least get a rain check?” that same man whined at me.

“Rain check,” I parroted enthusiastically as I pointed to him. “Definitely! We’ll call everyone once we have a new date.”

“But what about—?”

“She’ll let you know when she knows, all right?” Bonnie barked at him, and the disappointed runner reddened under her intense gaze.

“Yes, I promise I will,” I confirmed with a grin. Bonnie may have a harsh way about her, but she was definitely coming in handy right about now. “Until then, enjoy the rest of your dinners.”

“And don’t forget to submit your guesses for the murder mystery theater door prize,” Mr. Gable added, striding over from the other side of the house to lend his support. He then whispered into my hair, “I’ve updated your nan on the situation at hand.”

Once again I was grateful for his help, but he’d only been outside for a moment. How did he know?

Mr. Gable grabbed his phone from his pants pocket and wiggled it at me.“Charles caught me up on the key facts.”

I nodded my thanks.“Keep an eye on things down here for me?”

“I knew you’d find a way to investigate before the night was through. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.” He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll keep the guests from wandering around outside. Go get ’em, girl.”

I jogged up the stairs, not quite sure where I was headed until I got there—Octo-Cat’s bedroom, the place where the shelter volunteers had set up the adoptable animals. Also the place where I’d seen our deceased DJ exiting on less than pleasant circumstances.

Who could he have been arguing with? Time to ask some questions. See if I could help rush things along for Officer Bouchard.

“Hello,” I called to announce myself as I swept into the room with a newfound determination.

“Hello,” a blonde girl wearing her hair in a Princess Leia-like configuration greeted me. She wore a simple nylon dress that looked amazing on her. My guess was she didn’t have much money to buy clothes, but she knew how to work with what she had. Suddenly I felt subconscious in my borrowed dress and gloves. She studied me with a curious expression as if she knew me from somewhere but didn’t quite know where.

“I’m Angie. This is my house. Just wanted to check how things are going up here,” I said in an attempt to explain my presence. “I saw what looked like an argument earlier.”

She blew a raspberry.“Oh, with Max? He’s always making trouble, I swear.”

This surprised me, and I couldn’t help but show it. “You knew Max?”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap.“Yeah, we go to Blueberry Bay Community College together. I was surprised to see him volunteering for a charity event, and I told him so.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t respond favorably, then.” It had sounded like Max had been muttering curses under his breath, yet the girl in front of me didn’t seem irritated at all. Had I somehow misunderstood? Or did she just have an excellent pokerface? Could this be my killer?

She laughed.“It was hard to rile him up. He liked himself way too much to care what others thought of him. Can you believe it? He actually bragged, started talking about how he was too talented to work for free, that he was getting paid even if I wasn’t.”

“Charming,” I muttered. As far as this girl knew, everything was fine with Max. I couldn’t let on that it wasn’t, especially while I still considered her a suspect.

She pursed her lips and nodded.“Yeah, Doug was not happy with the way he talked to me. That’s probably the fight you overheard. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her with a smile. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am. It was no big deal. Like I said, Max is always like that. I’ve gotten used to it.” She wrapped her arms around herself and sighed.

I glanced around the room and saw cage after cage of cats, but no other person around.“What happened to Doug? I thought you two were volunteering together?”

She shrugged.“We were, but suddenly he said he had to go. Wasn’t feeling well and asked if I would be okay on my own.”

Interesting.“What did you say?”

“I saidsure.Who am I to keep him here if he’s sick? I mean, it’ll be boring now, but at least I have the cats to keep me company.” She smiled at the line of cages.

Uh-huh.She seemed earnest enough, and I had no reason to distrust her. Still, I’d have liked to talk to our feline witnesses without her present.

“Hey, do you think you could do me a favor?” I said, landing upon an idea that was just simple enough to work.

Her head perked up.“Sure. What do you need?”

“I’m a bit worried about my cat and dog. They’ve seemed really stressed all night. I thought since you have so much experience with animals, maybe you could look in on them for me while I hold down the fort here?”

“Sure. If you think it would help. Where are they?” She picked herself up from the floor and rose to join me.

“Upstairs, the only room on the third floor.” I infused my voice with a worried edge. While I’d never been a brilliant actress like my nan, this particular lie had enough truth in it that I could pull it off. I was worried about my pets—Octo-Cat was throwing a fuss, and he could very well take that out on poor Paisley while no one was looking. “Could you spend a little time visiting with them when you go up? I’m worried if I were the one to check on them, they’d just run and hide under the bed to punish me.”

She crinkled her nose like an adorable bunny.“That’s kind of weird, but okay. I could use the change of scenery for a bit. If anyone comes in to adopt a cat while I’m gone, will you come and get me?”

“Sure can… um.” Here I was contemplating her as a suspect, and I didn’t even know her identity. “What’s your name by the way?” I asked coolly.

“Scarlett,” she answered with a half-smile. “See you in a bit,” she added before slipping the door open and letting herself out into the hall.

Yes, she would be seeing me in a bit, but hopefully Paisley could charm her enough to keep Scarlett out of my hair so I could question this line-up of possible witnesses.

The cats would have seen whatever happened between Scarlett and Max. And maybe they’d share something she hadn’t.

Chapter Seven

I waited a few seconds to make sure Scarlett had well and truly gone, then settled myself on the floor with my legs tucked beside me and addressed the cats in their crates.“So, guys, what really happened?”

“Are you talking to us?” a fat tom cat mumbled, coming to the forefront of his crate and pressing his cheek against the bars.

“Seems if she wanted our help, she’d offer us a little something first,” a rail-thin cat with one missing eye suggested. He, however, remained huddled in the back corner of his cage.

“Yeah!” a fluffy long-haired cheered as he spun in mindless circles. “Help us help you here!”

“Okay,” I agreed casually. My dress clung to me tightly, making the floor-bound position incredibly uncomfortable, but still I persisted in my interrogation. “What do you guys want?”

“Let us out of here,” the skinny one-eye hissed. Apparently he was the cats’ representative now. His one green eye flashed at me dangerously. But his request didn’t seem too much to ask.

“If I let you out of the cages, will you give me answers?” I countered as I adjusted my legs to help circulate my blood flow in the restrictive garment.

Old one-eye crept forward and put a paw against the wire bars of his cage.“Sure, we’ll give you whatever answers you want, human. Now make with the opening these cages.”

I swallowed back a sigh and transitioned to my hands and knees to crawl the short way to the first of the crates. It was an awkward maneuver, but still easier than standing and kneeling.

I let the one-eyed boss cat out first, and he immediately shot past me to make a flying leap for Octo-Cat’s pride and joy, a one-hundred-and-forty-gallon freshwater fish tank. He jumped straight for it and hit it face first with a giantthwap!

“What’s with this invisible force field?” he grumbled as he picked himself up off the ground and made eyes at the offending glass.

“Let me guess,” I said, trying hard not to laugh. “Born a stray.”

“And I would have died a stray, too, if not for these do-gooding saps putting me behind bars!” His fur twitched in odd spasms and he eyed the fish tank woefully.

“They’re trying to get a home for you, so you can have a better life,” I explained. The cats knew that, didn’t they? The people who ran the shelter had good and kind hearts. I didn’t doubt that for a second, but I also knew just how hard it was to please a worked-up feline. My spoiled tabby was case in point.

“I had a good enough life back on the streets,” One-Eye hissed at me.

A new feline voice rose up in response.“Oh, hush up, Jinx. No one wants to hear your complaints… again.”

I searched the line of cages until I found the speaker, a sleek black cat with glowing golden eyes and a small white patch of fur on his chest.

I let him out next.“What’s your name?” I asked as he passed me with slow confident steps.

“It’s Mr. Fluffikins, and I was taken in by mistake. You see, I was on a top-secret mission and far from my home base in Georgia. I’d almost cornered our man when—”

“No one wants to hear your lunatic rants, Fluffikins,” the fat tom snapped. “Can it!”

Mr. Fluffikins growled but otherwise fell quiet as he paced the length of the room. He looked so determined, but I had no idea what he intended to accomplish while holed up here.

I left Fluffikins to his own thoughts. One by one, I continued to let the cats out of their cages. No one else made a run at Octo-Cat’s fish tank, but several made themselves comfortable on his fancy, custom-made silk cat bed. He would definitely not be happy about that. Still, it was a small price to pay if spoiling these cats a bit would get me the answers I sought. Besides, they’d all had pretty rough lives from what I could tell. They deserved a small taste of luxury as well as forever homes that would spoil them for all the rest of their nine lives.

“So,” I began casually now that everyone was free of their cages and had gotten some time to explore the room. “Did you see a young male human with longish dark hair in here earlier?”

“There were two humans watching over us, but one went home,” Jinx informed me, licking his paw and swiping it over his forehead with strange, jerky movements.

“Yes, but another human came in and fought with them a while ago,” I explained patiently. One of them had to have seen something. If I asked my questions in the right way, someone would have answers for me. They may even know the identity of Max’s killer. The motive, too. “His name was Max.Do you remember him?”

“A few other humans have come in tonight. Which one are you asking about?” the fat tom asked, coming over to sit at Jinx’s side.

“He was young, maybe early twenties. Dark, stringy hair.”

Jinx raised a paw.“Let me stop you right there and save us all some time. Yes, there have been humans in here, but honestly you guys all look the same. How am I supposed to know which one you’re talking about?”

I sighed. Yes, I’d gone through all of this when I first met Octo-Cat. He’d gotten much better at telling people apart now that he actually tried, but it made sense that the shelter cats hadn’t quite been initiated yet.

“I know who you’re talking about,” Mr. Fluffikins said, marching straight up to me. “His name was Max and he was here as a DJ. You agreed to give him $100.”

“Yes. That’s exactly right. Good kitty!”

He wrinkled his nose and scoffed at this.“Please don’t insult my intelligence.”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. It won’t happen again. So, um, what can you tell me about Max?”

Mr. Fluffikins’s eyes locked on mine. The golden irises appeared to swim with intelligence in a way that set him apart from other cats I’d met, including my own. “It is exactly as the other human, the one called Scarlett, told you, but with one notable difference.”

My heart picked up speed. Could this be it?

“Oh?” I said simply, trying to remain calm and steady so that he would tell me more.

“After he said he was getting paid, he asked her to go out on a date with her. Said he’d take her to the nicest restaurant on the bay and have the night of their lives. All while he wore this disgusting animal carcass as some kind of fashion statement.” Fluffikins shuddered. “Disgusting humans.”

“What did Scarlett say to that?”

“She tried to politely decline, but then the other guy who was in here—the one who went home—he got real angry when Max wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Ooh, this was getting good.“What did he do?”

Mr. Fluffikins chuckled.“He shoved him at the door and told him to never bother her again or else.”

Well, this definitely seemed like a promising lead.“Thank you, Mr. Fluffikins, you’ve been most helpful.”

“I know,” came his response before he began grooming his paw with a smirk.

“Right. I guess I should go get Scarlett back. Do you guys promise to be good if I let you stay out of your cages? I’ll tell Scarlett it’s all right.”

“Yes, we’ll be good,” Jinx said, his one eye narrowing at the closed door.

“And you won’t try to escape when I open the door,” I continued with a raised eyebrow.

No one said anything.

“Promise me,” I demanded, a hand on each hip.

“Fine. We promise,” Jinx agreed with a nod.

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” I looked specifically at Mr. Fluffikins since none of the others had been able or willing to assist with my investigation. “Scarlett should be back soon. Be good until then. Bye for now.”

I twisted the doorknob, preparing to take my leave. I hadn’t even opened the door more than a few inches before Jinx shot past me and ran right out into the hall.

Bad kitty!

Chapter Eight

I rushed out into the hall, but Jinx moved far too fast for me keep up. By the time I closed the door behind me, he’d already made it to the bottom of the grand staircase. And he was headed straight for the party—or toward the door. Thankfully, we’d had the foresight to secure the pet door to prevent our backyard raccoon neighbor from crashing the gala and terrifying all our guests.

Unfortunately, there was no way for me to quietly go about corralling Jinx, so I stood in the entryway and shouted for everyone’s attention. “We have an escaped cat from the adoption room. If you see him, would you please pick him up and take him back upstairs? Sorry for interrupting your dinner.”

My piece now said, I raced back up the stairs to get Scarlett. I found her seated on the rug on my floor with both Octo-Cat and Paisley sharing her lap contentedly. Octo-Cat purred so loudly, I could hear him from the doorway.

“Oh, wow. You really are good at this,” I said with extreme reverence. Paisley was easy to please; Octo-cat, on the other hand, was darn near impossible.

“I’ve always loved animals,” she said, petting each animal with one of her hands simultaneously.

“That’s great, but I have a bit of bad news.” I waited for her to meet my eyes before continuing. “I let the cats out of their cages and one of them escaped while I was coming to get you.”

Scarlett gasped.“You did what? Why would you do that?”

“Um, I don’t suppose you’ll take ‘they asked me to’ as an answer?” Heat rose to my cheeks. I really should have known better, but I was so blind in my pursuit of answers that I hadn’t listened to my instincts. No matter what a cat promised you, he would always play the situation in whatever way benefited him the most—and you could take that to the bank.

“Of course not. Gosh, I have to get down there now and make sure nobody gets into a fight.” Scarlett set my pets on the ground and jumped to her feet, then lumbered through the door to make right what I’d set wrong.

“Now there’s one human with a heck of a right-ear scratch,” Octo-Cat moaned as he watched her depart. “Those fingers are like a dream. You should have her give you some lessons before she goes.”

“Yeah. I like her very much, Mommy,” Paisley added with a wiggly butt and a merry voice.

“Great. I’m happy for you guys, but I can’t stay and chat. Sorry.” I stared down at them and bit my lip.

“Why not?” my cat demanded, marching straight up to me and placing a paw on my foot. As if that could stop me from going.

“There’s been a murder,” I whispered just in case anyone was eavesdropping on the stairs.

“Again?” My cat balked. “That’s like the third time this month.”

“It is not,” I argued with an indignant snort. “You have no sense of time. Like, at all.”

“Well, then it’s at least the third time this year,” he shot back.

Okay, maybe he was right about that. I didn’t have time to tick off all the murders we’d investigated on my fingers. Although I suppose it was a bad sign that I’d managed to lose count.

Most people stopped at one—or heck, never even got to one in the first place. Me, I had a good handful or two of murder investigations under my belt.

“Who’s the stiff this time?” my cat wanted to know.

“Mommy, I’m scared,” Paisley whined. “Am I going to get murdered, too?”

I reached down and picked her up. Her ears lay flat against her head and her eyes squinted as she shivered with fright.“You’re safe, Paisley. I promise.”

She whimpered and hid her face in the crook of my arm.“But why does everyone always get murdered when you’re around, then?”

Octo-Cat burst out laughing.

“Stop it,” I scolded him. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”

“That’s why I’m laughing,” he answered, then laughed some more. “And she’s not wrong. People get murdered around you all the time.”

“I barely knew the guy, okay? He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. It was a last-minute substitution, and—wait. Why am I explaining this to you? I have a case to solve. See you later.”

I set Paisley on the bed and gave her a loving pat on the head.“It’s okay,” I promised her. “Your big brother will watch out for you.”

“Says you.” Octo-Cat hopped up onto the bed. “I’m coming with you. I am your partner, after all.”

“No, you’re not. Things are chaotic enough down there without adding your fluffy behind into the mix.”

“But Angela—” he began in that droll voice of his.

I didn’t hear what he said after that because I’d already slammed the door behind me.

This was one case I needed to solve without my talking tabby partner. And fast.

I found Mr. Gable waiting for me in the second-floor hallway.“There you are. I was beginning to worry.” His forehead creased with even more wrinkles than usual. The poor old man looked wrung out.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked breathlessly.Please tell me things had not gotten worse in my short absence.

He kept his voice low while answering.“The guests are beginning to get a bit fussy. They want to know how they’re supposed to solve the murder mystery without any clues as to who the killer might be. They do have a point.”

This was definitely not good.

“Can’t you just make something up?” I asked, but before I’d even gotten the full question out Mr. Gable began shaking his head.

“I wish I were that creative, but I’m worried I’ll get my story crossed, and they’ll start to suspect something.”

“Charles,” I said at once knowing the answer to this one problem, at least.“He was born for this. Can you go outside and get him to switch places with you? You can help the police, and he can keep the guests occupied.”

“I’m on it,” Nan’s boyfriend assured me with yet another thumbs up. His overuse of the gesture was starting to irritate me, but at least he meant well. And he was buying us all the time we so desperately needed.

I peeked into the adoption room and saw Scarlett herding the cats into their cages… It was not going well. “Is Jinx back yet?” I called to her through a small crack in the door, unwilling to open it fully.

She looked up at me with a confused expression.“Who?”

“Oh, um, the cat who escaped,” I muttered quickly to cover my tracks. “The one with one eye.”

“His name is Captain Blackbeard,” she corrected me with a tired shake of her head. “And no, he’s still at large.”

“I’ll go find J—the Captain for you. Be right back,” I promised, shutting the door carefully and completely to avoid any other great escapes.

By the time I returned to the main floor, Charles was just returning from outside. I drew close and put a hand on his shoulder.“Is everything going okay out there?”

He sighed but still managed a smile for me.“Not really.”

“Any ideas as to who did it?” I whispered.

“I have lots of ideas, but no proof to go with them.”

“That’s what I’m working on finding. The proof. And also a one-eyed black cat that escaped. Any chance you’ve seen him?”

Charles squinted at me as he thought, then his entire face relaxed and he said,“Yes, actually. I believe Bonnie had him outside.”

“He’s with Bonnie? Why would she have him? And why was she outside with you when you were supposed to be alone?”

He raised his hands in self-defense.“It’s not like that. She was telling me about her case and asking for housing recommendations. She’s hoping to move to Glendale soon and needed a few tips.”

“Oh, I’ll give her a tip, all right,” I muttered under my breath.

Charles gave me a peck on the cheek.“It’s cute that you’re jealous. You have nothing to worry about, though.”

I nodded and forced a smile, because actually I had lots to worry about. There was a killer on the loose, a crowd of charity guests who could find out at any moment, and a gorgeous stranger who seemed to have far more than a professional interest in my boyfriend.

I’d solve all these problems before the night was through, mostly because I had no choice in the matter.

First, though, I was going to retrieve that naughty kitty.

Chapter Nine

I watched as Charles went to retrieve the event microphone from Nan. Once he had it, he jumped straight into a fascinating tale of murder and intrigue that I knew for a fact he was making up on the spot to appease our curious guests.

I listened for a few minutes to make sure the audience was buying it—they were—and then made my break.

Just in case anyone was paying attention to me, I chose to creep into the kitchen rather than heading straight through the front door. Beyond the kitchen, situated just past the pantry, a modest-sized mudroom lay tucked out of view from the main rooms. Inside were two doors, one that led into our garage and one that went straight out into the back garden.

I chose the latter, proceeding with slow and quiet movements until I was outside on the small stoop. The screen door clattered behind me, startling a willowy figure with sandy hair in the process.

He flinched and froze in place, as if doing so would somehow keep me from noticing him. Instead it gave me an even clearer view of his features, allowing me to recognize him in an instant.

“You’re Doug,” I said, a fact and an accusation.

Doug attempted to relax into a more casual pose, but his jaw remained tense.“Guilty as charged. Shoot! I mean… Yeah, I’m Doug.”

Wow, this guy did not know how to play it cool. At least it should be easy to walk him into a confession, because right now he looked incredibly guilty. I crossed my arms over my chest and stalked closer.“I thought you went home. At least that’s what Scarlett said.”

“Oh, yeah.” Doug shoved both hands in his pockets and forced a cough, bending at the waist as he did. When he straightened back up, his eyes looked wild and desperate, like an animal that knows it’s about to become prey. His hands moved beneath the denim fabric of his jeans as he spoke. Definitely hiding something.

“I’m on my way now. See ya.” He kept one hand in his right pocket and took off in an awkward loping run.

“Wait,” I called before he could make it very far across the back lawn. “What’s in your pocket?”

He paused for long enough to mumble,“Nothing. Sorry I’ve gotta go.” Then removed both hands from his pockets and broke into a full-on sprint.

I bolted after him, despite not being able to move very fast in the tight dress. This would never have happened if Nan let me wear my own clothes, I thought bitterly. Meanwhile hoping and praying he didn’t have a gun concealed in that pocket.

He couldn’t pull a weapon on me without attracting the attention of the policemen out front. With any luck, Doug would run right into Officer Bouchard’s path. I would have called for police assistance, but the guests would definitely hear if I shouted. Doug had to know he couldn’t hurt me without others noticing, and right now he was running away from me.

Nothing threatening about that.

Yet.

He darted around the side of the house heading toward the woods. I was just about to declare it a lost cause when someone stepped out from between the trees and body-slammed him to the ground with a sparkling red rush of strength.

“Bonnie,” I exclaimed, still unable to believe my eyes. Her dress was even tighter than mine, but that hadn’t stopped her from bringing our suspect to a halt.

“When a lady asks you to stop, you stop,” she growled as she ground a spiky stiletto heel into Doug’s back.

“Oh, I like her.” The one-eyed Jinx’s voice rose from nearby. Charles was right. She had found the escaped rescue cat, and she must have dropped or set him aside before tackling our man.

“Well,” Bonnie demanded, drawing my attention back to her. It was impossible to see the bony black cat in the dark woods, anyway.“What do you need from him?”

“Show me what’s in your pocket,” I told Doug, not used to taking such a hard-line approach but also kind of liking how powerful it made me feel. Hard times called for hard measures and all that, and I had definite reason to assume Doug’s guilt. He’d had an altercation with the victim onlymoments before the murder and had lied about leaving the party early. Then there were the small facts that he had run from me and was clearly hiding something in that pocket.

“Let me go,” he growled, struggling on the ground but unable to escape Bonnie’s heel.

She dug it deeper into the small of his back, and he cried out in pain.“Go on and take whatever’s in there,” she encouraged me.

I swallowed down a fresh lump of anxiety and reached into his pocket. I immediately found what he’d been trying to hide and pulled it out.

A switchblade.Oh my gosh!

“What’s this for, tough guy?” Bonnie demanded with a menacing rasp. “For killing people?”

“What? No!” Doug cried, struggled, then gave up. “Please let me go.”

“Not until you explain the knife,” I said, finding my voice at last. “I heard you and Max had a bit of a fight earlier, but was it really bad enough to kill him?”

“Kill him? Are you crazy?” he shouted.

“Quiet,” I warned. Bonnie bent down and shoved Doug’s face into the grass.

“You’ve got it seriously wrong,” he mumbled into the ground. “I’m not going to spend my life in jail over some loser like Max.”

“But you’re acting pretty sneaky,” I pointed out, drawing closer. “And you have a knife. I’m sure Officer Bouchard will find that suspicious enough to take you in for questioning. Maybe even keep you overnight.” I knew the murder weapon hadn’t been a knife, but Doug having one still seemed pretty suspicious to me.

Bonnie straightened back to her full height, and Doug pushed his face to the side, taking a deep breath before wincing and explaining,“I just slashed his tires, okay? He needed to learn a lesson about messing with Scarlett.”

“Slashed his tiresand then killed him?” I ground out, unwilling to let it go.

“No. Why would I kill him?” All the color drained from his face and he widened his eyes with fright. “Wait, is Max dead? Is that why the police are out front?”

Bonnie lifted her heel and took a step back, allowing Doug to scramble to his feet and flee into the woods.“He didn’t do it,” she told me with a shrug. “I can spot a liar from a mile away, and that thing about slashing tires is true.”

“I still think the police would have liked to talk to him,” I said, eyeing her wearily. Why would she let him go when he was clearly dangerous?

She shook her head and sucked air through her teeth, as if in answer to my unasked question.“No need to waste their time. I know who did it.”

I raised one eyebrow.“Oh, yeah? Who?”

Bonnie took a few steps into the woods, bent, straightened again, and turned toward me holding the one-eyed black cat in her arms. Glancing up to meet my eyes, she scratched Jinx behind his ears and whispered a single world that sent a bolt of shock tearing straight through me.

“Me,” she whispered. “It was me.”

Chapter Ten

I flipped the switchblade open and gripped the handle with both hands, holding it straight out in front of me for protection.“Don’t c-c-come any closer!” I sputtered at Bonnie. We both knew I didn’t have a chance of stopping her if she decided to tackle me the way she’d taken down Doug. Even if she rushed at me now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to use the knife on her. My only hope was that she hadn’t figured that part out yet.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” Bonnie said calmly, clutching Jinx even tighter to her chest.

“You killed Max.” It was hard to keep from shouting. Someone would hear, would come and rescue me from this crazy lady. I had to believe that. Had to stall until help arrived.

Bonnie shook her head and took another slow step forward.“Not on purpose.”

“But you strangled him! It doesn’t really get any more on purpose than that.” I strained to see if help was coming, darting my eyes to the side but unwilling to turn. My peripheral vision revealed no movement. No reinforcements.

“No, I did not.” Her voice was soft and lilting like a lullaby, slowing my heart rate slightly.

I tightened my grip on the switchblade, refusing to fall under her spell.“You confessed,” I argued.

She offered a half-cocked grin before glancing down to the ground.“Yes. It’s my fault, and I feel bad.”

“What do you mean?”

Everything fell quiet. I could hear my own gasps for breath as I struggled to keep a clear head. Otherwise nothing.

“You saw the body, right?” Bonnie said after a moment’s careful consideration.

I nodded, unsure what she was playing at but still unwilling to drop my guard.

“Was he wearing my coat? The fur?” she wanted to know.

I thought back to the scene and distinctly remembered noticing Max’s pale bare arms. No coat. “No.”

“But he had it on earlier. Didn’t he?” She pumped her head vigorously, as if trying to convince herself rather than me. “I remember seeing him when he claimed it after the auction. Thinking there goes one problem.”

“What do you mean?” I waved the knife for effect, but Bonnie didn’t even seem to notice.

She swallowed, looking paler after that.“Remember how I was talking to your sweetie about how I need a lawyer?”

I nodded again.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No,” I mumbled. How I wished she’d just get on with it. These slow questions and false starts were beginning to aggravate me.

“Client confidentiality. He’s a good lawyer. Got integrity. Good.”

“What are you talking about?” I rasped.

Jinx stirred in Bonnie’s arms. “Always with the questions,” he spat. “Can’t you see the nice lady is upset?”

Bonnie reached down and stroked his fur, unaware the rescue cat had just come to her defense. But why was he taking her side instead of mine?

“I’m leaving my ex,” Bonnie revealed, “and it’s not exactly an easy situation. I was hoping Charles could help me.”

Jinx purred and rubbed his head against her collarbone. He was like a completely different cat than the one I’d met earlier that evening.

I refocused my attention on Bonnie’s face, watching for any signs of deception or danger. “With your divorce?” I asked.

She let out a sad laugh and fixed her gaze on the black cat while addressing me.“Not exactly. We were never married officially, but we were together long enough to be considered a common-law marriage. Which means I’m entitled to cost of living, you see?”

“But what does this have to do with Max? The victim,” I added, just in case she hadn’t bothered to catch his name before signing his death warrant.

Bonnie grimaced and threaded one hand through Jinx’s fur—for support, I guessed. “My ex is not a nice guy. Not like your Charles.”

I widened my eyes and motioned for her to continue with a wave of my blade.

“Ever heard the termmarried to the mob?”she asked with a dry chuckle.“That’s me, except I was common-law married instead of the actual thing.”

“Your ex is a mobster?” I hissed, hardly able to believe what she was telling me. “And he followed you here to Glendale?”

“Afraid so. At least that’s how it seems.” She smiled again, but a tear fell and rolled down her cheek, giving away her true mood in an instant.

“Why and from where?” I pressed. The pieces were starting to come together, but not enough to reveal the full picture.

“Where do all the biggest criminals go to play? DC, of course. It’s a long drive. I didn’t think he’d find me here. I should’ve known better, though.” Bonnie took another deep breath and began stroking Jinx’s fur again. “I may have absconded with some key evidence against him.”

“Blackmail?” I whisper-yelled.

She hung her head and laughed again.“Not blackmail.Leverage. I’m used to a certain style of living, you know? I’ve been with Vinnie twelve-odd years. I don’t have any job skills to call my own. What am I supposed to do? Starve?”

When I’d first met Bonnie that evening, I hated her on sight. I also didn’t agree with her reasoning now or the fact she’d tied herself to a mob boss for over a decade. Still, she was a woman who had been hurt and was obviously scared for her life. I lowered my knife and sighed. “Where did you put this leverage of yours?”

“I’ll tell you, but don’t judge me,” she spat, suddenly becoming defensive. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. At least not until you walk a mile in my stilettos.”

I nodded and waited for her to continue.

“It was in the lining of that coat,” she revealed with a sob.

“The one you donated to the auction?” I whisper-yelled. Of all the irresponsible and reckless schemes…

“I needed to get it somewhere safe. Somewhere I could find later if needed but that Vinnie wouldn’t be able to track. Understand?”

“Stop upsetting the lady,” Jinx hissed. “Can’t you see she’s crying now?”

Bonnie assumed the hiss was meant for her and lowered the cat to the ground, then glanced up at me with shimmering eyes full of tears.

“So he killed Max for the coat,” I said softly. “How did he know?”

She sniffed, much like Max had so many times in my presence.“He’s smart. I’m not surprised he figured it out. I should have known better. But a girl can hope, right?”

“You need to turn yourself in,” I urged. I didn’t want to upset her, but she had important information that needed to be shared. Whether or not I’d liked Max, his killer needed to be brought to justice. “Tell the police what you know. Help them capture Vinnie.”

She nodded.“I know. I know. I will. But…” Her eyes cut into mine like steel. “Your name’s Angie, right?”

“Yeah.” Honestly I was surprised she’d picked it up. I thought she was just another silly woman who used her body to attract the attention of whatever man she wanted. I hadn’t given her enough credit—either for her intelligence or the tough situation she’d found herself tangled up in.

“Angie, I’m really scared. Now that Vinnie knows I was trying to blackmail him, he’s not going to let me go. I had a small chance before, but now I’m basically a dead woman walking.”

I flipped the blade closed and dropped my hand to the side.“We’ll find him. We can protect you until he’s behind bars,” I promised. Even as I spoke the words, I knew I’d do whatever it took to help this stranger find peace.

“You’d help me?” Her voice cracked on that last word, and I could tell she was moved by my offer.

I shook my head.“Not me. I’m definitely not qualified to take on some big city mobster, but the police… They’re good here. They can help. I’m sure of it.”

“If you trust them, then I trust you,” she said, reaching a hand toward me. This time I grabbed it and held it in mine, and we marched around the front of the house to talk to Officer Bouchard together.

“Wait,” I said right before we rounded that last corner. I turned, and sure enough that one-eyed black cat was trotting after us.

“What?” he mewed at me when he caught me staring at him with a huge smile.

“Wherever you go next, I’m sure you’d like to have a friend,” I told Bonnie, squeezing her hand before letting it go. “Take him with you. Oh, and consider naming him Jinx. It fits him.”

Jinx strode over and rubbed his head against Bonnie’s leg. “No more of that Captain Blackbeard nonsense,” he said with a smirk. “I owe you one.”

Bonnie scooped him up and smiled.“That’s a really good idea,” she told me. “I left everything behind to get away from Vinnie. It’s been real lonely. I thought I could hide from him on my own. I should’ve known better.”

“Stop beating yourself up, and stop doing it all on your own,” I urged.

“Witness protection,” she murmured. “I can testify. Help put Vinnie away.”

“Yes. You’ll finally be safe and free.”

She smiled at me through tears.“The leverage probably wasn’t the best idea, but I didn’t know what else to do. I thought he’d follow me no matter what I did, and at least with the leverage I’d have a chance.”

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” And deep in my heart, I knew it would be. “I don’t know where you’ll end up next, and I’m probably not supposed to, but just know… You’ve got a friend in Glendale, Maine, if ever you need one.”

“Bye, Angie,” she said, giving me a quick hug and squeezing Jinx between us.

I watched as she strode up to Officer Bouchard and began telling him everything. She would be all right, and at least one of the shelter cats had found a home tonight.

Now it was up to me to help the others find their perfect matches—just like Bonnie and Jinx had found in each other.

Content

Молли Фитц Raccoon Racketeer. Himalayan Hazard. Meowy Christmas Mayhem. Hoppy Holiday Homicide. Retriever Ransom. Lawless Litter. Legal Seagull. Black Cat Benefit